102
by leighismyname
Summary: the one where Annabeth stabs Percy in the eye with her very own elbow and she can't seem to stop running into him all over the world. hey, might as well become best friends that party at cool concerts and constantly pine over each other, right? (A gift for the greatest friend, happy happy birthday Orange Pens and Messy Hands!1!1!1)


**oh hello there. bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. nope. not today. or like eight years ago when i last uploaded. i honestly had to intention of posting this anytime soon, specifically because it isn't done yet. ummm. right. so.**

**the next upload might be next week, or two weeks. but i promise it will come and you'll love it.**

**why yes, thank you for asking you beautiful reader, i am in fact posting this for a very specific reason on this very beautiful day at this very specific, but kind of late, time. you'll have to wait for the ending authors note to see that.**

**gosh i haven't uploaded in a while.**

**please don't trash on this story if you must, it's kinda my baby and i know it's a little rough, but be nice. por favor**

**okay im done enjoy**

* * *

"_And when I knock At a hundred and two And I see your pyjamas, I can't stop smiling at you." 102 - The 1975_

* * *

Annabeth can honestly say that she never expected to see Percy ever again after their last encounter (all circumstances considered) so when she _does _find him at a dark underground cafe in Australia, she's a little confused.

Okay, so. Background information. Annabeth is a concert photographer and she gets sent to some huge artists' shows in uber famous places all across America (and oftentimes the world!), and sometimes a job will require her to photograph a backyard concert for a local band somewhere in the middle of Iowa, it all just depends. Like now, she's in Australia for this indie, unknown band that plays in an underground open mic cafe on Tuesday afternoons only.

Some local bands let their "regular" title go to their head and choose the most ridiculously specific times and places to play. Annabeth has had to go to some pretty odd places at weirdly particular times for some almost crappy pictures. Like the opera Metallica cover band that played at two a.m. in a library's storage cellar. But honestly, it had pretty neat acoustics.

Anyway.

Annabeth got a job at a Coldplay concert in LA. It was absolutely epic. Everyone in the crowd screamed the words to every song and they were jumping around and a couple high school kids cried during Us Against the World, and Annabeth was loving it all. She was running around, sometimes right in front of the stage, sometimes behind the entire crowd of people, snapping some of the best pictures she's ever taken. The venue was awesome, too. It was like one an indie music festival: there was a stage in the middle of a park and a giant closed off area for the audience. Annabeth knew a few loiterers were camping up on the mountain right in front of the park, probably all really drunk, but she didn't dwell on them for long.

But, yeah. The concert was awesome. Though in the middle of running around, Annabeth found a patch of open space where she could get some nice shots of the drummer and lead guitarist. All was well until a full on mosh pit just sort of- formed around her? (Which was extremely odd considering it was a _Coldplay _concert and you really only hear about mosh pits in insane, unrealistic, funny, but always very tragic stories.)

Annabeth was towards the back, but deep enough to start to feel a bit suffocated. Plus. Everyone smelled like sweat and some girls perfume reminded Annabeth of her second grade teacher and just about half the entire audience stepped on her foot at least twice each. She held her camera straight in the air because the whole thing cost more than a months rent and there was no way she was going to break it. But with everyone screaming their lyrics and jumping to the beat of the drums and waving phone flashlights, Annabeth _had_ to get a picture. She flipped her setting to landscape, because why not, right? and after a couple clicks (which she prayed were in focus) Annabeth pulled her arm down to look through the pictures and accidentally ended up elbowing someone really hard in the eye socket.

To be fair. Percy should've been paying attention.

Annabeth figured out how to weasel her way from the crowd, this newly injured (and undeniable overreacting) guy groaning and trailing her. Once the song ended (and even though she apologized a couple thousand times), Percy decided to be rather petty and asked if she could take him to urgent care because "it feels like my eye is deteriorating from the inside out, like when you microwave a piece of cake". He might've been drunk, but so was Annabeth so she took him anyway. (No worries, they took an Uber. It might've cost Annabeth her entire wallet, but hey, anything to keep this guy from suing her, right?)

Percy didn't, like, make her pay hundreds of dollars for unnecessary surgery or whatever, but he did make her take him to one of those meta, year round Halloween stores and buy him an eyepatch. Even though the doctor said she'd just give him, like, a medical grade eye patch specifically for eye injuries, Percy insisted. Also they were both drunk. (Percy and Annabeth, not the urgent care doctor.) But obviously, in the end, they both went separate ways eventually and no numbers were exchanged, and they didn't kiss like any _lame_ YA author would make them.

Annabeth didn't expect to ever see him again, and frankly? She kinda forgot a bit about him.

But then she's walking backwards in a dark cafe in Australia and the local band is "taking five" and she's staring down at her camera, flicking through some of her pictures from the night, deleting the fuzzy ones, and she bumps right into someone else.

And it's Percy.

Because who else would it be?

She's actually kind of surprised to see that he's not still wearing the eyepatch. He just seemed like the kind of guy to milk a small injury for all it's worth. But instead, eyepatch-less, he smirks and says slowly, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Annabeth Poked-Me-In-The-Eye Chase."

Annabeth smirks a little because _this guy is just as ridiculous as I remembered._ "I _have _done other things than hit you in the eye, you know that, right?" A couple of other patrons in the cafe start to leave and one of them passes in between Annabeth and Percy and the lady manages to step on both their feet. Once she's gone (her and her flaming red hair), Annabeth scrunches her nose and smiles. "At least I didn't do that."

Percy cringes and wiggles his foot a little bit. "Yeah, I think she broke one of my toes, or dislocated it? I don't know, but something's- not right." He frowns at his foot.

Annabeth adjusts her camera strap (it's comfortably uncomfortable, like all camera straps are, just- why does it have to be so itchy?). "Well, it better not be because I'm not taking you to another urgent care for no reason."

Percy rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. He shoves his hands in his pockets and awkwardly rocks back and forth (on his supposedly dislocated toe, might Annabeth add). "What're you doing in Australia?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"But I did first, so you have to answer."

Annabeth pauses and ties and reties the strap on her bag. "Family reunion."

"That's a lie. If you're really here for a family reunion, then why are you here instead of literally anywhere else in this entire country with your family?"

"Technically it's a continent, but okay." Annabeth smiles as Percy rolls his eyes. "No, I'm not here for a family reunion."

"Why are you here, then?"

"I can't go around telling my secrets to strangers, can I?" Annabeth takes a picture of Percy's face and blinds him with the flash. "Why are you in Australia?"

He blinks for a few seconds, trying to get rid of the white dots clouding his vision. "Momma said to not talk to strangers."

"Momma's not here."

"I thought you said this was a family reunion?"

Annabeth laughs, despite herself. "Fine. You win."

Percy smiles and mouths 'yes!'. "What do I win?"

Annabeth's eyes widen and she grins childishly. "You can have any drink from the bar that you pay for... yourself!"

He just smiles at her for a few seconds and Annabeth gets a bit uncomfortable (okay, anyone staring at you for any amount of time without saying anything gets weird, but she was trying to- impress him? A little? She's also blatantly aware of the zit she had on her forehead that morning and wonders if that's what he's looking at. Then she chides herself for being so school-girl-esk. Bleh.) "Let me buy you a drink," he insists, and before Annabeth can tell him it was a joke, he's already walking over to the bar.

(Which, by the way, is absurd and highly confusing. Is it just- a normal thing in Australia that there's a stage for a live band _and_ a bar inside a cafe? What _is _that?)

A couple wearing matching floral t-shirts and crocs block Annabeth for a moment and when she finally moves around them, Percy's casually leaned one arm on the counter and he holds up the number two to the bartender. "..please. Thank you. Oh, hey Annabeth, so nice of you to join. I just ordered for you." He smiles.

Annabeth narrows her eyes and leans against the bar next to him. "I really hope you didn't order anything alcoholic because I have no intention of getting drunk."

"Getting drunk is the second best thing to do at a concert." Percy takes his wallet out of his pocket and puts his card down on the counter.

"Could you.. consider this a concert?"

"Not really. Normally performers don't 'take five' in the middle of the show, let alone in the middle of the song." He shrugs. "But things are different in Australia, are they not? For example, did you know that there is a drink here called 'Kangaroo Kick'? It's awful, I highly suggest you don't drink it."

"Are you- _already _drunk?"

Percy squints and tilts his head. "Just a bit, but I'm getting sober. Promise. Also. I'll have you know that getting drunk was completely intentional. Pinky swear." He holds up a pinky.

"I'm starting to wonder what you're like when you're sober."

Percy winks. "Stick around in the morning and you'll find out."

"My flight leaves this evening."

"Still enough time."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's not what I said. I could've meant that we had enough time to… ride bikes along the shore, or buy matching earrings." He shrugs. "Who knows?"

Annabeth stares at him for a few moments. Never in her life had she met someone so- frustrating? But at the same time she's still kind of enjoying the conversation despite herself. Like, at the same time she wants to keep talking, she also wants to smack him. It's a very odd feeling.

The bartender puts two drinks down in front of them. "Two lemonades."

Percy smirks and raises a challenging eyebrow, sipping his drink.

Annabeth really does wonder what he's like sober, because if this is him drunk? They say that alcohol gives you a lot of false confidence. Annabeth can attest for that because her best friend, Thalia Grace, after getting drunk for the first time, broke into her dad's house (she was living with her mom at the time) climbed to his roof, took off her shirt, and jumped into the pool three stories below. Thalia also broke all of his garden gnomes and, using a paperclip, broke the lock on his front door. Annabeth never understood it, but at the time, she was quite wasted too, so.

She digresses.

Annabeth just wonders what Percy is like sober.

She doesn't think she'll ever see him again so she doesn't dwell on it, like, at all.

Its not that she cares about him. Or anything like that. In fact, she could not care less.

But then again, after the whole eyepatch incident in LA, Annabeth never thought she'd never see him again. So who knows.

Before she can even sip her drink, a short emo looking kid calls Percy over and he's whisked away in a crowd of tourists and crocs. Never to be seen again.

Until just about a month later.

* * *

It's _so_ frustrating? Because sometimes Annabeth would like a night in. You know? _Not_ editing her pictures, _not _out at concerts until two a.m., _not_ wasting all her money on Ubers.

Actually for a full week after she got back from Australia, all Annabeth had to do was a little editing on some pictures and that was it. She watched reruns of Tanked (because her tv gets, like, three channels) and edited for about five hours, and for the rest of the week, Annabeth was _free_. No editing, no late night concerts, no ubers, no loud teenagers or bumping shoulders or elbowing people in the eyes or sweaty gross obnoxious anybody.

It was so weird, though. For the past few months, Annabeth has gotten, maybe, in total, a week off. Not a full week, just seven days spread across five months. Which sounds crazy, yes, but most nights she'd be out all day, doing research, or she'd be editing, or flying, or planning, or packing, or stressing, or maybe just trying to catch up on tv. Needless to say, her sleep schedule was almost non-existent.

So to have one consecutive week to do _nothing_ felt unnatural. Once Annabeth was leaving her apartment to go out for lunch with Thalia (you remember, the gnome smashing, roof jumping, lock picking best friend?) and she actually grabbed her camera, checked the SD card, battery, and was halfway out the door before realising that she didn't even need it. For almost seven days she didn't take one single picture on it.

It felt so good.

Truth be told, she ate so much junk food and watched so many entire tv series' on Netflix, it was probably unhealthy but who cares, really. Okay, well, Annabeth did catch up on a ton of sleep, and, like, pay her bills and whatnot, but that's boring.

Anyway.

Vacation (if you could even call it that; she barely left her apartment) was short lived unfortunately, because on Saturday, Annabeth gets a text from Big Boss Man. _1975 is starting their tour in a venue in upstate new york. Calm down i know you live like three hours from there. i booked you a hotel, its nice i guess. I need as many close ups as possible and they need to be good. U kno how 1975 get on stage. I need them edited by wednesday. Concerts on monday. Have fun. And check email for hotel and tickets_

So. Annabeth has an… interesting .. relationship with her boss. She's been working for him for around three years and gradually the grammar and spelling in his texts have lost their initial… professionalism.

Mr. D, Annabeth's boss, is, how you would say, a needy, self-obsessed, arrogant, freeloading, douchebag. But he pays well and he likes Annabeth's work, so she deals with him.

Actually, Mr. D has never really liked Annabeth, as a person. If he's ever showing her off at one of his silly "art" shows (they're concert photographs of bands that are normally sweaty and breathing hard and spitting and it's gross but Mr. D shows the pictures off like they're Picasso) Mr. D just compliments Annabeth's work. "_Her photography is so amazing. The pictures are so amazing. She's brought me some of my favorites. See here…."_

(Also did she mention that at these "art" shows Mr. D occasionally sells a picture or two and Annabeth never gets a penny of profit? She's also pretty sure that it's a tad bit illegal {very illegal} but despite that he's kind of a good boss, a little.)

Maybe it's to be expected that your boss of three years has no interest in who you are as a person and literally only cares about your work. That's fine with Annabeth. She doesn't really want to get to know him either. But a forty-something year old man texting like a fifteen year old girl seems a bit ridiculous and Annabeth just wants to know how that happened.

Moving on.

Reluctantly, Annabeth packs enough clothes to last her a harsh winter, a few snacks, a very ridiculous amount of charging cables, and of course, her camera bag. And she's off. Sailing down the streets of the Big Apple in her car-that-she-can't-afford to upstate New York.

The hotel is brutally amazing, actually. She's booked to stay until Wednesday night and to say that she's not absolutely thrilled is a lie.

Because she's _absolutely _thrilled.

Her room has a very soft king sized bed that smells like laundry detergent and the hotel shampoo smells like essential oils and the carpet looks the the floor of a Chucky Cheese (which is- so weird?) and the towels are soft and the water in the shower is actually hot and the menu for room service has chocolate milk and you're dead wrong if you think that's not the only thing she'll be drinking from now till Wednesday and holy heaven- the view? It's spectacular.

In upstate New York, there really isn't many bodies of water, so the hotel doesn't overlook the ocean or something magical like that, but Annabeth can see the entire outdoor venue for the concert she's about to attend. Which is equally as frustrating as it is amazing.

Because Annabeth could potentially get the hottest pictures from up here: the crowd cheering, sun setting, band playing, the lights, the hotel, the surrounding. But if she's up here, it means she's not down there getting the close ups Mr. D wanted.

These are the kinds of situations that make Annabeth so angry. Well, maybe not angry, so much as just vehemently frustrated.

Annabeth _loves_ photography. It's one of her favorite things ever. She's always fancied the idea of capturing a single moment in time and being able to go back and look at it again and remember that moment and the ones that came before and after. She adores it.

And going to concerts is what gets Annabeth out of bed in the morning. Seeing live music just- does something to her heart. Like, during the last song of the night where the band dedicates it to their fans, the ones in the crowd, and people are singing the lyrics, waving phone flashlights, swaying to the rhythm of their favorite band's music. Not only that, but the _energy_ in any arena, stage, venue, whatever is so electric and, to put it simply, energetic, that Annabeth knows she'll never forget that night. And, yeah, okay, she's probably been to hundreds of concerts throughout her career and high school, but each one is so different and magnificent that sometimes she just- gets so caught up in it? Like, not only are the songs so moving and the singer's voice is so raw and emotional and sometimes they'll start crying and then the audience is crying and Annabeth's shoulders are shaking and she's just holding down the button on her camera, praying that at least one picture isn't blurry because the moments when the entire room is feeling the same heavy beat in their hearts because of the same song, the same lyrics, the same music; it's a moment Annabeth loves reliving whenever she can.

When she was in high school, her best friends started a band and they actually made it pretty big. Of course, when they first realised one of them could sing and the others could decently play instruments and a band was formed, they asked Annabeth to photograph their 'concerts' because she had a nice camera because she was in yearbook and also Annabeth was always free (seeing as they were nearly her only friends and they were always practising). And as rising stars, they had to have an instagram with plenty of pictures and whatnot, so they got Annabeth to take those pictures and manage the account (when feeling nostalgic, Annabeth will scroll back to the first pictures on the page because it's literally the three dweebs with crappy instruments in Annabeth's backyard performing for their parents, and when she scrolls up they're going on world tours where the venue is completely sold out, and last summer they played at Coachella, so nostalgia, yeah).

But during some of their first performances, Annabeth just fell in love with it. Running around in the audience, sometimes getting on the stage, getting pictures of the fans, it was like someone gave her a slice of heaven and said: _you can get paid to do this. _So, it was a dream that she got to experience with her best friends. (Best friends that she hasn't talked to in, like, eight months, but whatever.)

Anyway.

Annabeth could live her entire life as a concert photographer and she'd die happy.

And, yes, the hours are long, and she barely has a sleep schedule at all, and her feet will probably always hurt, and she'll most certainly have major back problems from standing at so many concerts and always bending over her computer, but she loves what she does so much, she wouldn't give it up for the world.

But Mr. D is a wrench in her metaphorical gears of life. Before he hired Annabeth, before he found her sad little photography account on instagram and decided her pictures were half decent, before any of this started (and after her high school friends went off on country wide tour), Annabeth did whatever she wanted at concerts. Sometimes the bands themselves would hire her. Most of those bands were local and the lead singer was someone she knew from, like, middle school, but still. Mr. D wasn't around to tell her to get close ups, or the whole stage, or the audience, or just the drummer during this one solo in particular. Annabeth could photograph whatever she wanted. But Mr. D has rules.

It's like if a lawyer, before being hired by a high-paying law firm, only dealt with, who knows, car crash cases, and once they get a strict boss this lawyer is being launched into murder trials and diet pill frauds. The lawyer doesn't want this, but it pays. So lawyer sucks it up.

Annabeth just wants some sweet pictures of the venue from her hotel room window, but Mr. D asked for close ups. So instead of staying until the first few songs of the night plays and getting some wicked pictures of the crowd warming up and the band jumping around, Annabeth goes down to wander around the hotel, maybe find the pool, just to distract herself from the physical ache to plant herself in front of the window.

In the lobby, she finds out there is a pool, but the entire outside section of the hotel is closed off because of the concert tonight, but _just come back tomorrow because there's a Beach Summer Bash to start this summer off right!_ as the receptionist said.

So she turns around to find maybe a place to eat? Or anything else? Because she doesn't want to go back to her room and she doesn't want to talk to the receptionist anymore.

And, lo and behold, she rams right into Percy, and her camera bag falls to the floor.

Perhaps she should be a little more concerned because this is the third consecutive concert she's run into this same guy, but _her five-hundred dollar camera inside her camera bag with very expensive equipment just fell to the floor_.

So she throws herself to her knees and opens it, taking out her camera, inspecting the lense, turning it on, takes a picture or two (one with and without flash, just in case), and checks every filter and size lense just to be one hundred percent certain that nothing broke or cracked in the maybe three feet fall her bag took. Percy crutches down beside her. "I'm sure your stuff is okay."

Annabeth pulls her UV filter out of its case and wipes it clean with her t-shirt, which probably does more damage to it than the fall ever could. "Can never be too safe."

"Isn't your bag padded or something?" He picks up a battery pack and turns it over in his hands.

"Incredibly, but still."

She feels him staring at her, but she doesn't look up. "So," he says. "The fact that this is the third time we're running into each other, all on different parts of the planet, doesn't scare you at all? Or even, I don't know, set off some sort of weird alarms or something?"

"It definitely does," Annabeth says, packing her bag back up again. "But my five hundred dollar camera nearly breaking concerns me a little bit more, considering I might lose my job if I don't have it." Percy stands and holds out a hand for her to take, just to humor him, she does. "I can't seem to shake you off, can I? You're always somewhere."

Percy shrugs. "I might just be running from the cops."

"At a concert surrounded by security guards?"

He smiles. "That's why you're here, huh?"

Annabeth shoulders her bag strap. "I'm certainly not here for the closed off pool and four dollar Snickers bars." He chuckles. "So, what's your deal? Like, what is the purpose for these world wide random concerts?"

He shrugs, a smile on his lips. "I'm a concert enthusiast, ya'know?"

She rolls her eyes. "Right, and I'm dying with two months to live, trying to see as many live bands play as I can."

He tenses up for a second. "Really?"

"No, you moron. Seriously, what's your deal? You caught me being curious."

"Okay, but you can't make fun of me."

"I make absolutely no promises."

Percy makes a distressed face. "I met a girl at a concert a while back and I've been trying to find her."

Annabeth blinks. "By going across the world and probably ruining your bank account?" Annabeth deadpans. "I mean, no offense, but you're wearing off brand Nikes."

Percy shuffles his feet. "None taken, I got these at GoodWill."

"For a girl?"

"For a girl."

Annabeth laughs. "_Jeez_, Percy."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckles. "But I need to find her and so I'm all desperate."

"And crazy."

"We're all a little crazy," he smiles. Annabeth smiles back. He's very sweet.

"Yeah, but we don't all waste our money on random concert tickets and plane rides for some girl we met _once _who was probably drunk." Annabeth smirks.

He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "Now, you're just being mean."

"I'm being honest," she says. "And a little mean, but- details, details."

Percy offers to take her to the venue himself, which yeah, okay, that's super sweet and Annabeth obviously takes up the offer, but the voice in the back of her head reminds her to not get too attached. The lovely gift that comes with being a concert photographer and always moving from state to state to country to country is that Annabeth literally has no friends. She lives alone and when she's in town she'll catch up with Thalia, but other than that, Annabeth is just constantly going places, never staying in one town for long, that friends, or even more than friends, don't come by often.

Once she got a Tinder account because Thalia pushed her to (and Valentine's Day had just passed and it was the third time she'd been emailed spam telling her she'd won a huge vacation to the Caribbean 'with her lover', described as 'a second honeymoon', and that kinda pushed her over the edge). But after three guys ghosted her once they found out she photographed concerts for a living, two dudes asking for quite inappropriate pictures, and four girls asking if she wants in their polyamorous relationships, Annabeth gave up.

Yet another price to pay in her field: undying and horrifically dark loneliness.

"You know? You never told me your deal," Percy says, quirking an eyebrow at Annabeth while they walk out the hotel's front doors.

"My deal?" Annabeth asks, lifting her camera to take a quick picture of the setting sun. She'd probably delete it later. She has thousands of sunset/sunrising pictures from all over the world. (Some were absolutely stunning, though. Like, when she went to Iceland, the sky was littered with the brightest stars and the mountains were glittering with snow and they were nearly blue because of moonlight. She took probably eighty pictures.)

"Yeah." Percy says. "I've never seen someone treat a camera like it's a child." He chuckles. "Also, you said this is your job?"

Annabeth lets her camera hang from her neck. The venue was finished being set up and Annabeth could just picture the band on the stage. "I'm a concert photographer. I actually get paid to do this, instead of blowing my money for nearly no reason." She smirks.

"Just _drop _it, oh my gosh!"

Annabeth laughs at him. "Do you really think this mystery girl is going to be here?"

Percy shrugs. "I know she's in New York. I don't know how, but she's around here somewhere. I'm starting here- at this concert. I have no idea if she even likes The 1975, but I do."

"Are you sure you met her? You could've just imagined this girl and the whole thing is just an elaborate scheme to go to a bunch of concerts."

"Best elaborate scheme I've ever indirectly put myself in. Now, let's go. We might a chance to get up close."

* * *

The venue is just like the one at the Coldplay concert. The show starts just after the sun starts setting and Annabeth gets absolutely gorgeous pictures of the girl who opens for The 1975. She's fairly young, but has the voice of a goddess and belts some huge notes. Plus, the whole 'golden hour' look really suits her. Annabeth, albeit begrudgingly, gets quite a few close ups of her, the highlight on the singers cheeks makes her look like she's glowing with beauty and pure talent.

Percy follows Annabeth around like a lost puppy. Apparently, he's not so used to running around so much at concerts. And while Annabeth is familiar with getting a little rough and elbowing her way to the front of the crowd, Percy isn't too taken to being so rude. Annabeth only knew he was right behind her because of how often he said 'sorry' 'excuse me' 'I'm so sorry' 'my friend is crazy, I apologize for her' 'pardon me' 'just trying to squeeze through here' 'my bad'.

Half way through the concert, Annabeth stops near the back of the crowd and faces Percy. "You don't have to keep following me," she yells over the music. "Enjoy the concert, please. I'm sure we'll run into each other later."

But Percy shakes his head. "I'm having a great time. Look, Annabeth, there's an open spot right there." And like a horrifically rude concert photographer, he elbows through people and leads Annabeth to a small patch of ground where she could snap a couple of pictures.

She couldn't be more proud.

Maybe having a friend with her isn't so bad.

It's during _TOOTIME_ when Annabeth realises she might just love him. "This would be so epic from up in the hotel room. You wouldn't even need a ticket to see the whole show."

And Annabeth just stops because _that's exactly what she was saying_. "Do you wanna do something real fast?"

He frowns. "Like what?" She could explain, but they're already yelling and it's sort of hard to hear, so she just grabs his arm and runs through the crowd. After quite a lot of difficulty and so many people cursing them for stepping on their feet or getting in the way, they finally make it back to the lobby. "Wait- Annabeth-"

"Just, _come on, _Percy." Annabeth presses her floor number and pulls him into the elevator. Once on her floor she races down the hallway trying to remember what room she was in, Percy clomping messily behind her.

She can still hear the chorus of the song playing and she hopes she's not too late. Room 14, she's in. "Annabeth, what are we doing?"

"Trust me, come on."

And she pulls the curtains of the long window open, the most beautiful view of the venue they could get revealed in front of her. The crowd simultaneously jumps together with the beat of the song, and the lead singer bounces around on the stage, dancing to his own music, the rest of the band singing too. Red, blue, and soft yellow lights echo on the stage and the crowd, feeding the energy of the music into everyone. Annabeth could hear the crowd singing, the beat of the drum, the strum of the guitar, the vibrations of the singer's voice. Being in the middle is purely amazing, but sitting back and watching it happen it a different kind of beautiful.

"Woah," Percy whispers from next to Annabeth. He's finally over his initial shock of her dragging him from the concert to her hotel room. He certainly thought she had other things in mind, and Annabeth can't blame him. She did almost break her room key card by jamming into the lock super fast.

Annabeth and Percy look over to each other. She says, "So worth it."

He laughs breathlessly. "Yeah. Absolutely."

* * *

Everything fell conspiritally into place.

It started after Annabeth came back from the 1975 concert, and Percy had given her his number. Completely platonically. "Text me if you ever wanna see see a concert again, or something," he had said.

She raised her eyebrow and pocketed her phone. "That sounded ominously like a threat."

"You know what I meant, don't twist my words."

And then she gets a call from Mr. D.

Annabeth was expecting him to contact her because she got _another_ week off after the 1975 concert because Big Boss Man was in _jury duty_. (Imagining her boss sitting in his tight suits in a public jury, eating ham and cheese sandwiches and deciding the fate of a poor criminal nearly made her laugh out loud.) "Annabeth," he had grunted at her.

"This is."

"Congratulations, you get, like, a month off."

She paused. "Wh- _what?_"

"Yeah, the jury duty I told you about? It's a murder trial. I probably shouldn't tell you this but I'll be in court as jury for a while. So.. have fun and don't leave the country. Also, nice work on the 1975 concert, but I said _close ups_, remember?"

She remembered. And the odd part was that she got plenty of close ups, but photographing from all the way up in her hotel room was much too fun. And Percy for some reason had Uno on him, but playing with two people shouldn't work at all, so they played maybe two games until Annabeth came up with a screwed up version of Go Fish. They also ate so many goldfish crackers because they were the only snacks that weren't over a dollar in her hotel room. It might've been the best concert she's ever been to.

And finally, one night when she was eating Chinese in front of her tv, binge watching a show she's already seen before, Percy texts her about getting coffee the next morning. Obviously, she says yes, and then he sends her a screenshot of a snapchat he took of himself. It might've been the most unflattering angle anyone could find, and he outlined his eyes, nose, and eyebrows yellow, and his mouth red. The caption said: "ronald mcdonald has something to say about that", leaving Annabeth more than confused. The mystery was probably funnier than the shock value.

**Annabeth:** ? was that on purpose or…

**Percy:** i most definitely did not mean to send that

**Annabeth: [image 2]**

**Annabeth:** whats fair is fair

**Percy: **i didnt know someones face could do that

**Annabeth: **shut up

**Percy:** is that a cat or just your hair

**Annabeth: **low blow my friend

**Percy: **im serious. I can't tell the difference

**Annabeth:** maybe you need glasses

**Percy: **maybe you need to brush your hair

Despite herself, Annabeth laughs at his comment. So maybe having friends is more fun than she thought.

But her hair didn't look _that _bad; she was just wearing it in a pretty spectacular… bun? If you could even call it that? Annabeth just gathered a chunk of it on the top of her head and wrapped a scrunchie around it. You can't blame her though, rewatching her favorite show for the twenty-seventh time doesn't require looking nice. (And, whatever, it also doesn't require a literal tornado shoved in a hair tie, but Annabeth has the entire month off until a murderer gets proven guilty or not guilty, which might take a while, so she can wear her hair however she wants.)

**Percy: [image 3]**

**Annabeth:** why do you still have that

**Percy:** you never know when you need an extra eye patch

**Percy: **plus i look really cool

**Annabeth: **i think that thing is making you hallucinate you should take it off

**Percy:** youre not the first person to tell me that

**Annabeth: **thats really gross

**Percy:** your hair is gross

**Annabeth:** so is yours but ive never said anything

They went along like that for a while. And _a while_ means days. Annabeth finds Percy slowly weaseling his way into her life, and kind of becoming her best friend. It's an odd feeling, but she enjoys waking up to text messages and memes and falling asleep during Facetime calls. She forgot what it's like to have a best friend.

Not only that, but Percy doesn't know anybody in New York (he grew up somewhere in Canada) so he sort of adopts Annabeth as his personal tour guide. At first they visited the really touristy sites, like the Museum of Modern Art (where Percy complained the whole time saying it's too boring, then getting really excited about something he recognizes; "Melting clocks! I've seen that before in movies!"), the Statue of Liberty, yada yada. Eventually Annabeth started showing him her favorite places: the best coffee shops that never close no matter how late, the nicest parks to visit in the summer, and her favorite concert halls to photograph. (Although theatres and arena stages were nice, nothing beats a park venue, honestly.)

One night, Annabeth and Percy are Facetiming because Percy heard a Coldplay song play on the radio and "it reminds me of the time we met, Annabeth. You remember right? When you stabbed me in the eye with your sharp elbow and nearly killed me."

"Okay, first of all: don't insult my elbows, and secondly, it's two am."

"Yes, the perfect time for reminiscing."

"Spell reminiscing."

"Shut up."

Frankly, Annabeth can't tell you when they got so close. It sort of just- happened.

"So, tell me…"

"Oh, boy."

"Shut up, Percy." Annabeth smiles, but it's so dark in her room (because it's two a.m.) she knows he can't see her. "How are you living in New York if you're from Canada?"

"Oh. I'm married."

"You're- Sorry, _you're what?"_

"Married to my wife. Her name is Red."

"You're twenty-one." _He's married._

"Twenty-two, Annabeth darling."

"And you're married."

"Mhm. No need to be jealous, Red and I are just friends. We only got married so I could live in the country. I almost forgot."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"It's definitely illegal, but so far I haven't been arrested, so I think I'm okay."

"You know, Percy. Everyday I learn something new about you and every time I learn to regret it."

Percy just yawns. "Ahhy tyyyyuuhhd."

"The sounds you made were not even close to being any understandable language."

"Uhghg. I said I'm tired."

"How did I not guess." Annabeth smiles. "Why don't you sleep?"

"You're more fun to talk to."

Annabeth's heart swells. In a platonic way. Her stupid heart would swell if any of her friends said that. "I'm flattered. Drink coffee then."

"Don't have any."

"It's New York, you banana. There are coffee shops literally everywhere."

Percy hums. "I think about that a lot actually."

"What, coffee shops everywhere?"

"No. New York. We have Spiderman protecting us here."

"We don't live in Queens."  
"Iron Man."

"Still not Queens."

"So many movies take place here and we get to live in it."

Annabeth contemplates his fascination. "Movies take place everywhere."

"Not Canada. Nothing happens there."

"Well, something went wrong some time ago and you were born. That happened in Canada, yes?"

"You were born somewhere too."

"I was."

"New York?"

"Nope. My heart belongs to lovely Virginia."

"_Virginia?_ Oh, Annabeth.."

Annabeth laughs. "Virginia is not that bad, I swear!"

She can't see it, but she can hear the smile in Percy's voice. "Annabeth, Virginia is the Canada of the United States."

"You've got me there." Annabeth doesn't really think before saying, "Wanna do something with me?"

"At two in the morning?"

"New York is the city that never sleeps, right?"

"I'm pretty sure you're thinking of Las Vegas."

"Same difference."

"Not really."

"I know a place that's open and it has coffee."

"How long will it take to get there?"

"As long as it takes."

Percy groans.

"Come oooon, Percy. Live a little."

"You're paying."

"And some say chivalry is dead. I'll text you the address."

* * *

Okay, so, the coffee shop is actually closed. Maybe _some _New Yorkers do sleep.

"I hate you," Percy says, sitting down on a bench outside the coffee shop. The lights were shut off and everything. There's no sign of life. Actually, since they arrived nearly seven minutes ago not even one car has passed by.

"At least it's not cold out." Annabeth clicks the power button on her phone a million times but her phone is just as dead as it was a minute ago.

Percy nods, a bit condescendingly. "Yeah, and at least it's not also three a.m.- _oh, wait_."

Annabeth kicks his shoe. "You can't deny that you're having the time of your life."

He pretends to snore.

Truth be told, Annabeth did originally think it would be open, she didn't purposely lead Percy to a closed cafe. No, it's not cold outside, but there's a chilly breeze and it is three in the morning.  
She sits down next to him on the bench. It's quiet between them for a while. Annabeth hears something crash in an alleyway a few blocks down, but she barely flinches- it's New York, afterall. Percy puts his head on Annabeth's shoulder and she freezes, because if she moves even a little he might go back to resting his head on the bench and for an odd reason she doesn't really want that.

"What do we do now?" Percy asks softly. He laces his fingers together in his lap.

Annabeth contemplates that. She can't say she knows the city well enough. She's twenty-two, and she moved here three years ago, then almost immediately snagged herself a job with Mr. D, so she has never really had the chance to explore the city, much less find some fun activities to do at three a.m. "I don't know," she sums.

"You know," Percy muses, his voice deep and quiet, "when I decided to move to Brooklyn… I never really imagined myself on a cold bench in the middle of the night in front of a closed coffee shop."

"You forgot to mention that you're accompanied by the greatest person you've ever known."

"Something like that."

Annabeth smiles, and although Percy can't see her, she rolls her eyes. "You know what could be worse?"

"What could be worse?" Percy links his ankle over Annabeth's, his worn hand-me-down shoes crossing over hers.

"Well," Annabeth takes a deep breath, thinking. "One, or both of us, could be pregnant, we could be in hell, we could be fighting dragons, we could have to write an eight page essay…"

Percy chuckles. "I always hated writing essays."

"Writing an essay would be worse than being pregnant for you?"

"If I was pregnant, I think I would just be confused."

Annabeth laughs. "Yeah, essays do kinda suck."

"Kinda?" He sits up and stares at her.

Annabeth shrugs. "I liked the factual bits, like finding evidence that supports a claim and coming up with a thesis, but I never liked writing the actual essay. I, um, I have dyslexia, so it was difficult- _is _difficult."

Percy blinks for a second, a small smile coming to his lips. "Yeah," he says, scratching behind his ear, "I- Well, I also have dyslexia, so I understand the frustration, but I didn't like all the other stuff, though. Evidence, thesis- I didn't like English class, like, in general."

Annabeth breathes out a laugh. "I'm glad we could bond over disabilities."

Percy nods and smiles. "You know what's worse than writing essays and sitting on a bench at three in the morning?"

"Wasting all your money on plane tickets for a random girl?"

"No." Percy laughs. "But I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You definitely did."

Percy pauses for a moment, then says, "I think it would be worse if I was alone."

Annabeth nods, looking down at their still linked ankles. His pants had ridden up and she can see his Christmas socks (snowman with Santa hats, how fun?), though she's shamelessly wearing crocs with dinosaur jewels. She thinks about how he had just had his head on her shoulder. "Yeah," she says finally. "Being alone would be much worse."

* * *

Annabeth's horoscope told her to be proud of the small things she'll accomplish.

And honestly? She can proudly say her illegal online shopping went _so _well, she had to delete her search history.

She's always been good at scrounging through the back corners of the internet to get something she shouldn't have. Like when she went through a musical theater stage in high school; she watched every bootleg musical you could possibly ever think of. (Yes, they were all blurry and shaky and every joke that was made someone in the audience laughed so loud she couldn't hear the next line and whoever was filming sang along to every song, but you bet your bottom dollar she watched Once On This Island when it was still in an arena stage without paying a dime. [So maybe her musical theater stage wasn't just way back in high school but- whatever.])  
Anyway.

Annabeth somehow managed to snag black market tickets to a Whine With Me concert.

_For free. _

There are so many more legal ways to get the tickets, but where's the fun in that? Plus, going to a concert you're not supposed to be at ups the excitement level, like, times a hundred. It's insane.

Of course she asked Percy to come with her, because who else? Frankly, Annabeth really just enjoys his company. Like she said, he's starting to become one of her best friends. He's also the only other person who will come with her to a concert (nevermind the fact that Whine With Me is his favorite band) and come with her all around the venue as she takes the best pictures from the weirdest places.

And there have been some weird places.

And sue her, Annabeth finally made a friend and so what she wants to spend time with him. That's what friends do.

Besides, this concert is the perfect opportunity to get in the photos Mr. D asked for. A day after the three a.m. coffee incident, Annabeth's boss had emailed her about needing at least _one_ project while she's on her break (aka: he's too busy to boss her around all the time).

And a Whine With Me concert is _more_ than perfect for _more _than enough reasons.

Everything- fits.

Well. Percy isn't completely content with Annabeth's means of getting the tickets.

("Someone else definitely would've _paid_ to see them! Annabeth! We're underage voting, driving without a license, drinking at a bar in a foreign country _just_ because we're the drinking age over there and not here. It's not right." "Yeah, but it will be okay if you just shut up about it and enjoy the concert ten times more than whoever would've bought these tickets." Then he mumbles something that might be "baby orphans" but Annabeth is checking the settings on her camera and smirking, too, because she knows she's right.)

Percy ends up having the time of his life.

It's his _favorite_ band, after all. He knows all the lyrics, the guitar riffs, and drum solos, and Annabeth starts to think that he likes moving around a lot during the show. It just gives you a view from every angle and it's _awesome_. Plus, Annabeth has been to this venue before, plenty of times actually. She knows the best spot for acoustics, the best view of the stage: she's just glad to finally have someone to share it with.

Annabeth's glad it's Percy, too.

He still apologizes to literally everyone. Only a couple times do those really polite lads say "you're alright" or "it's really no problem", but those people are also above fifty and have fanny packs, but Percy always gives them a huge smile. He offered to carry her camera bag, too. It was probably the nicest thing anyone could've done for her. She just stared at him for a few seconds, not really sure she heard him correctly, and then said, "Yeah, yeah, thank you so much." He took it with grace and never complained once about how heavy it is. (She has, like, three full lenses in there, a tripod, and her attachable flash which is as big as a flood light and can literally blind someone.) Every single time a new song starts, Annabeth hears Percy mutter, "Oh my gosh, this is my favorite song," and when they stop running around and stick themselves to the back of the audience, Percy says, "Even though those tickets were black marketed, I'm so happy you got them."

Annabeth smiles and puts the cap on her camera lense. She has her bag opened on her hip while she puts her equipment away. "Have you been to a Whine With Me concert before?"

He shakes his head, looking towards the stage where the lead guitarist, Piper McLean, throws herself around the stage in an epic guitar solo. "Nope, but this won't be my last one. That's for sure."

Annabeth puts her camera in the big pocket of her bag and closes it up. She adjusts the shoulder strap and says, "You better take me with you. I can get us free tickets and lord knows how much you need to save money."

Percy laughs and throws an arm around her shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere without you anymore, Annabeth," he yells over the music. The chorus picks up again and Jason Grace, the lead singer, sings into the microphone again, and the audience screams the famous lyrics with him.

Instead of trying to figure out what Percy meant, Annabeth throws her arm around his shoulder, too, and sings the words she's heard a thousand times.

It's hard to think that the band that played in her backyard would be Grammy award winning and that the lyrics she remembers Jason singing to himself while he made quesadillas on exam night would be the same ones she's singing now, awkwardly in-sync with the hundreds of other people in the audience, but sometimes the kid from speech and debate is your lawyer and the cute band from prom night wins awards, it just happens.

* * *

Annabeth has absolutely no idea why Percy doesn't just ditch her.

She's broken, like, half a dozen laws since they met. Like tonight, for example. She blackmarketed free tickets online for a live concert. Instead of staying in her designated seat, she runs around the entire audience dodging ushers and security guards for some pretty fantastic pictures, if she does say so herself. And, here's the real kicker, she sneaks backstage without a pass and slyly dips into the bands dressing room.

Well. First she bumped into a tech who looked like she was still in high school, and had to pass her trespassing for getting lost looking for the bathroom. And then Percy found the table with all the food, so obviously they got very distracted because _look, Annabeth, they have spray cheese_. They also found their way into the dressing room for the opening act, which was a local rock band who dressed like mimes. They mistook Annabeth for a stripper and at one point, Annabeth lost Percy in all the stripped t-shirts, but then someone tugged her arm and Percy and Annabeth were back outside again, running down the long, fluorescently lit hallways.

Eventually, they find the right dressing room. It says 'Jason Grace' in block letters, but Annabeth can hear Piper and Leo yelling jokes over each other and Jason laughing so she knows they're all in there. Percy grabs Annabeth's arm before she can open the door. "What do we do when we get in there? I mean, are they gonna call security? Annabeth, _what if we get arrested-?_"

Annabeth smiles knowingly and cuts him off. "Just trust me." She opens the door.

Jason Grace sits at a chair by a huge mirror with light bulbs running up and down the sides and top, with pictures shoved into the framing, there's plenty of hair product bottles to style an army of boys. When he first notices the door opening, Jason says, "Oh, sorry, nobody's allowed back here- _Annabeth?"_ He looks the same as he did in high school. A little less babyish and ten times taller, but he has the same cropped blond hair and crazy blue eyes Thalia has. (Oh, yeah. Thalia and Jason are siblings, if that wasn't already made clear.)

On the other side of the room, Piper is on Leo's back and his knees look ready to snap, like a baby deer walking for the first time. They both say, "Annabeth?" at the same time.

She hasn't seen them in years, hasn't talked to them in months, and she's dreamed of a reunion like this, but the only thing she can think to say is, "Have you guys tried the spray cheese? It's disgusting." Percy shifts uncomfortably behind her.

The three bandmates stumble forward and crush Annabeth in a very awkward group hug. She's aware of Piper stepping on her heel and pushing both her shoe and sock off and the fact that Leo smells like burnt hair and Jason's arm pushed her camera bag off her shoulder to resting in her elbow. Annabeth pulls out of the hug and shoulders her bag. She's about to introduce them to Percy when she glances at Jason. She doubletakes. "You have a _nose ring?"_

Jason opens his mouth and closes it like a fish. He shoots a hand up to his nose, covering the piercing. "My fans think it's cool." He shrugs weakly.

Leo laughs and scratches the back of his head. "Your fans are wrong, buddy."

Piper says to Annabeth, "We told him not to do it, but big Rockstar thought it would give him an 'edge'."

Jason throws up his arms. "We were invited to the Kids Choice Awards!"

Annabeth crosses her arms. "And you thought a nose ring would help that?"

Before Jason makes another comment, Leo interrupts him, "So, what're you doing here, Bethy?"

Piper nudges her shoulder. "Still taking pictures, I see."

Annabeth smiles. How she missed her friends. "Yeah, actually I got some pretty cool shots of the show- You guys are animals on that stage, you know that?"

Piper throws her head back and laughs. "Did you see Leo lose his drumstick? Oh, please tell me you got him falling off the stage?"

Annabeth laughs. "I didn't get the drumstick bit, but Leo, you know you kicked a girl in the face, right?"

He smirks and shrugs. "She liked it."

"You're so gross," Jason says.

"_Leo_ doesn't have a nose ring," Piper offers. Jason grumbles and rolls his eyes.

Leo pulls his drumsticks out of his back pocket. "I had to use my emergency comb to play the last three songs. It wasn't that bad, to be honest." He takes out a comb that's missing more than half its teeth. "I'm gonna need a new comb though." Everyone laughs.

"It looks like someone ran it over." Piper laughs and takes his comb, attempting to run it through her hair.

Jason cringes. "It's not the worst thing that's happened at a concert."

"Nashville?" Piper grimaces.

"Nashville." Leo agrees. He shudders.

"What happened in Nashville?" Percy speaks up for the first time. Annabeth didn't forget he was there, but she couldn't find a good place to weasel an introduction in.

"Who's this?" Piper asks. Jason squares his shoulders and Annabeth rolls her eyes.

(Jason and Piper are together, and, as celebrities, plenty of fans leave disturbing [but hilarious] "thirst" comments all over Piper's twitter. Not to mention the amount of people who love to hit on her in public and whatnot. Jason's just very protective. Good thing the nose ring makes him look all intimidating n' stuff.)

"Oh," Annabeth says, "this is Percy, he-"

"Has amazing eyebrows, holy crap," Piper says. "You should be proud."

Percy half smiles awkwardly. He's more than definitely star-struck. Annabeth doesn't make a move to help him though. He made her listen to him- all night -about how beautiful Jason Grace is, so this is her payback: making him interact with him.

(Seriously, all night it was: "I'm not full gay, but if I was- Jason Grace would be my close reference.")

"He's my friend," Annabeth finishes.

Percy comes forward to stand next to Annabeth. He's undeniably close, and Annabeth realises he's leaning toward her for comfort and familiarity. "I'm a big fan," Percy says. "And I think the nose ring's cool."

"Aaaaannnd I've suddenly lost all respect for you," Leo says, smirking.

Annabeth kicks his shin. "Shut up." She leans towards Percy. "You don't need to earn his respect, he burnt down the school library in sophmore year." Everyone laughs.

Leo didn't burn down the library, but he could've, and at the time, it was serious and kinda scary, but it's funny now. Leo tried to do a magic trick; using fire, he caught three books, two shelves, fourteen sets of window curtains, twelve plastic plants, and the schools stuffed badger mascot on fire. It was quite the fiasco.

"It was one time! And I never caught anything else on fire for the rest of the school year!"

"You were on probation!" Piper laughs.

"Okay, I haven't lit anything on fire since high school," Leo challenges.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "Why do you smell like fire, then?"

Jason mutters, "yikes," as Piper whistles. Leo eyes her and smirks. "I've missed you too much Anna."

"So," Piper says, "Where you from, Percy? What's your deal?"

* * *

It's almost as if Percy went to high school _with _them.

Eventually they migrate to the couches, laughing and retelling stories. Percy fits right in, too, which Annabeth is more than relieved about. She was originally worried Percy would be too starstruck to get comfortable, but he talks to the others like he's known them his whole life.

And Jason seems to approve, which ultimately matters the most.

Annabeth has known Jason just as long as she's known Thalia, which is a very long time.

Thalia and Annabeth met on a very stormy night at the ripe age of seven years old. Annabeth had been teased for her new haircut (she thought bangs looked cute, nobody else did) and when she got home from school, Annabeth (feeling emo) laid in the pouring rain in her backyard. Thalia, the neighbor, was lining up worms on her windowsill so they would get watered when she saw her neighbor getting absolutely soaked because she was lying outside in a rainstorm. Thalia had ran down the stairs, then using her treehouse, climbed over Annabeth's fence, and confronted her neighbor.

Annabeth had said she was a plant that needed to be watered and Thalia offered her some hot chocolate because even though her mom hid it on a high shelf, Thalia could climb on the counter to get it down for her.

Jason wanted some hot chocolate, too, that day.

He was five at the time.

They kind of became a trio. Wherever Thalia went, Jason followed close behind, with his giant backpack that went down to his knees, clonking every time he took a step. And wherever Thalia went, you could always find Annabeth.

It was like that for a while, a very long while, until high school, when it was uncool to hang out with middle schoolers and still uncool to hang out with freshman. Jason made his own friends, Piper and Leo, and Thalia and Annabeth found comfort in the yearbook, with Annabeth being the photographer and Thalia being head editor.

Teenagers are teenagers, though, and eventually the brother-sister relationship turned sweet to sour sometime around junior year, when Jason was just a freshman. This was when he discovered he could play guitar pretty well, so he'd practise in the basement. But not even the concrete walls could drown out Jason's playing.

Honestly, the band was kind of Annabeth's fault. Not that it's a bad thing.  
One time, when Annabeth and Thalia were studying for a Chemistry test, Jason started singing while he played and Thalia broke four pencils out of sheer frustration. It wasn't that he was bad, it's that he was obnoxiously loud and indefinitely unwanted. Thalia's mom was never home to settle the disputes so Annabeth called Piper to come over, since she's the only person who can distract Jason long enough so Thalia could swap his electric guitar for, maybe, a toothbrush.

Jason ended up teacher Piper how to play guitar, then Piper got her own guitar (rich parents), and then Leo, the drummer, joined the scene. From then on Thalia and Annabeth studied at Annabeth's house.

The same year, junior year, was when Mrs. Grace died in a car accident as well. That brought Thalia and Jason back together. For a little while, Thalia stopped studying at Annabeth's house and the usual strumming from Jason's guitar ceased to echo down the street and back again.

Eventually, things got better, and Jason named his little band 'Three Times Crazy' and Thalia took over as senior editor of the yearbook, and of course, Annabeth practically adopted them. She was rarely ever at her own house, constantly making sure the two siblings were eating enough, and that Jason was finishing his Geometry homework even though he said he did, Annabeth always double checked. So the group became stuck like glue. The trio were a trio again. And obviously, the other bandmates wiggled their way in.

(Finally in senior year, when band Three Times Crazy was getting a couple thousand consecutive views on their YouTube videos {shot by none other than Annabeth Chase}, Annabeth had to break it to them that their name kind of sucked and they sounded like a kiddie group. Her and Thaila came up with Whine With Me and for some reason they loved it.) (Nevermind the fact that the name was inspired by little five year old Jason, with sticky hands and constant badgering and whining.)

But even through the glory days, when the five of them would spend forever down at the lake, listening to music, swimming, and trashing about Geometry teachers; Thalia, Jason, and Annabeth were the closest.

Long story short, if Jason doesn't approve, Thalia won't approve, and then Annabeth has to make a new friend.

But Jason seems to like Percy. So all's well that ends well, and whatnot.

Annabeth is sure plenty of time has passed, but, without windows, there's no way to know. She knows it's been quite a while, though, because at one point Piper found a bottle of champagne and when she opened it, Annabeth was directly in the line of fire and her shirt got soaked to her skin. Now her shirt is dry, it's stiff, and smells like alcohol, but it's dry, so that means at least an hour? More?

She can't bring herself to care.

The exotic lifestyle of rockstars leads to many delusion/sleep-loss enthused stories, and with Annabeth going to different states and countries constantly, she meets her fair share of crazys, so the night is filled with plenty of stories that lead to that quiet laughter where you swear you're getting a six pack, and there are tears in your eyes, and you grab your friends arm for dear life because you might just fall over if you don't have support.

To sum it up: Leo got his broken 'backup' comb stuck in his hair when he promised it still worked even though he shredded it earlier tonight when he used it instead of a drumstick. Jason got so fed up with jokes about his nose ring that he took it out, which made Piper cry from laughing so hard. The three bandmates ate Percy alive for going across the world looking for a girl he's met _once_ at a concert. ("That's kind of stalkerish." "She's the love of my life, leave me alone!") Annabeth can, after a brief experiment, fit one hundred and two goldfish in her mouth. Percy told a story about how he ended up sleeping in a sewage drain hiding from a moose when he lived in Canada ("I swear to God, those things are ten times bigger than you'd expect, and they are _everywhere_."). Annabeth took a photo of the band trio for a 'post concert pic'. It's odd to see her picture back on their instagram, where it's stacked next to professional photographers who also do fruit portraits in their freetime, when her pictures used to be the only ones that made it to the page. During the picture, Percy, standing behind Annabeth's shoulder, accidentally backs up into a table, knocking it over and breaking a lamp. His excuse is "I'm really clumsy."

All around, it's quite a good time.

But, all good things come to an end, and Whine With Me is scheduled for a plane ride straight down to Miami for a show or two, and Annabeth is just tired. They say their farewells, Percy exchanges twitter handles with Leo, Annabeth takes a bottle of champagne, and they're off.

* * *

They finish the champagne very quickly.

Annabeth doesn't have money for an Uber (poor planning) and Percy's phone is dead, so they decide to walk to Annabeth's apartment (because it's close enough) and crash there.

They're kind of drunk, which is a bad thing, and Annabeth makes a mental note to not drink so much because almost every time she's with Percy they end up getting drunk and her liver probably can't handle it.

But they've already finished a bottle of champagne on top of the other one they had in the dressing room, so there's really no going back now.

It's passed midnight, too. Street lamps light their way, stars litter the sky, and Annabeth catches herself stumbling every step or so. She leans against Percy because he's stumbling also; they can keep each other from falling. Annabeth watches their feet stepping down the sidewalk.

She takes a deep breath. "I'm so hungry." The last they ate was spray cheese and goldfish.

Percy hums. "You know what I could go for right now?"

"What could you go for right now?"

"McDonald's chicken nuggets."

Annabeth closes her eyes and nods against his shoulder. "You read my mind." Annabeth adjusts her camera bag on her shoulder, a reminder that she didn't leave it behind. "A twelve pack?"

"Twenty," he says, his voice airy, like his head is off in a different world.

"With ranch?"

"No," he says, "mustard."

"Mustard?" Annabeth frowns. "I didn't know you were a mustard guy."

"Only with chicken nuggets."

Annabeth licks her lips. "There's a McDonald's right down the street, you think we can get some?"

"Didn't you say you don't have any money?"

"I don't have money for an Uber. I can probably afford some chicken nuggets."

"If you can afford chicken nuggets, you can afford an Uber."

"Yeah and it will take us seven feet and then we have to walk _and_ we won't get chicken nuggets."

"Right."

Annabeth notices a hole in the toe of her shoe. She wiggles her foot and her french fry socks peek out at her. Her feet really hurt, she's been walking around all night, and, like an idiot, she forgot to check her bank account before she left. She literally has seven dollars to her name. Technically she has checks to be cashed in, but they sit on her kitchen counter, still in the envelope. (The bank is just so much work and it's so far and- she can deal for now.)

Well. Not really. She's about to waste all the money she has on chicken nuggets.

Percy wraps an arm around Annabeth shoulder to keep her up. She had been walking with her head on his shoulder, but she started to slip. Honestly, she probably would've fallen asleep if he hadn't. "You know what could be worse?"

Annabeth smiles, closing her eyes, her mind tracing back to the cold bench outside a closed coffee shop. She hums, "What could be worse?"

There's a smile in Percy's voice. "We could be in college and have class in the morning."

Annabeth laughs. "Yeah, that would definitely be worse." She sighs. "I never went to college."

Percy squeezes her shoulder. "Brilliant minds don't need extra education." A pause. "I, on the other hand, did go to college. For, like, half a semester."

"No way." Annabeth looks up at him as they walk. Her nose is a little cold from the night air, and the tip of Percy's is a little pink. He's smiling too.

"I got in on a full ride scholarship." Percy nods. "They found me in high school. I was captain of the swim team. They said 'hey, you look athletic, want to come to our school and major in something we choose that you know absolutely nothing about?'"

"Oh my gosh," Annabeth whispers, anticipating the worst. "What was it?"

"I went to college for a full year on an interpretive dance scholarship."

Annabeth allows her mind to process that. "I- I am speechless."

"I was too. Imagine my dad's surprise when I told him his only son would be traversing to the United States for interpretive dance. He loved it."

"Did he really?"

Percy laughs. "No. He got so angry, he broke a blood vessel in his hand from clenching it so hard."

"That's- terrifying."

"No. No. It was hilarious."

Annabeth puts her head back on his shoulder. "How do you-" she smiles- "teach, not even- how do you _learn _interpretive dance?"

Percy shakes his head. "College professors find a way."

Annabeth laughs and they both turn, the bright and glittering sign 'McDonalds' stares them down.

* * *

"Hi, yes, can I have twenty chicken nuggets please?"

The lady at the register doesn't move. She raises an eyebrow and looks both Annabeth and Percy up and down. She mumbles an "alright" before inputting their order on the computer screen, her long nails clicking the buttons loudly.

Annabeth looks around. A group of teenagers half asleep sit in a booth, their entire table overflowing with cheeseburger wrappers and french fry containers. Percy taps his fingers on the counter.

The lady, Maria as her name tag read, says, "That'll be six seventy-five."

Annabeth mouths 'yes!' and elbows Percy in excitement then hands Maria her card. Maria hands the card back and says, "It'll be ready soon."

"Thank you," Annabeth and Percy say simultaneously. She almost forgot his impulsive need to be polite.

They walk to the serving area and Annabeth grins at Percy who widens his eyes excitedly. They're both very hungry.

Eventually, Maria comes back with another side glance and the nuggets, and the pair leaves with another 'thank you!'.

It takes all of Annabeth's willpower to not eat any of the chicken nuggets on the way home. The little cardboard box is warm in her hands and there's even a picture of a chicken nugget on the front of it, taunting her. Whatever sort of twisted marketing trick that was is certainly working. She puts the box in her jacket under her arm to avoid the temptation.

Percy keeps sniffling while they walk and Annabeth feels the champagne bubble in her throat. There's a thing that says that alcoholics opt for champagne because it goes straight to your head. Annabeth isn't an alcoholic but she can attest that her head is lost in the clouds. At one point Percy brings up movie genres and soon enough they're in a heated debate about the whole DC versus Marvel debacle.

"Annabeth," Percy says seriously, "you can't honestly think that Batman is more popular than Iron Man, that's insane."

"No, seriously, listen, Percy-"

"Who is Batman?" Percy asks. "In your head, envision Batman, who plays him?"

Annabeth frowns. A car drives by. "Well. There's Michael Keaton, Ben Affleck, Christian Bale, at one point-"

Percy cuts her off. "Okay, and who plays Iron Man?"

"Robert Downey Junior, but you can't use that-"

"That's my point, Annabeth!" Percy smirks playfully. "There have been so many Batmans because the directors and cinematographers can never seem to get it right-"

"Which is a good point for _me_ because people just want more Batmans."

"But if they got it right the first time, like with Iron Man, they wouldn't have to." Percy settles his case. Annabeth opens her mouth to fight back, but he makes a good argument. "Besides," Percy says, "Iron Man is funny, he's got more emotional depth in his pinky than depresso-espresso Batman, and he has one- just one -love interest."

"He's a player."

"He's _depressive_. And at one point, at least in his second movie, slightly suicidal." Percy trips on his shoelace. Another car drives by.

Annabeth flinches at the bright headlights. "Fine, whatever. But Bruce Wayne had a tragic past. He has more weight on his shoulders from witnessing his parents death, Tony Stark was a rejected kid with crappy parents."

"Tony Stark befriended a wanted super soldier assassin, took him in, and then found out he murdered his parents and didn't tell him."

"Bruce Wayne has no friends."

"He has Robin. And he milked his parents death for, like, thirty years. They were rich sociopaths, he didn't need to mourn them, let alone avenge them _thirty years later. _Everybody knows Batman's story and everyone is sick of it."

"He was in the Lego Movie," Annabeth defends weakly.

"They made fun of him the whole time."

Annabeth groans. "Why is that right? Why can't Batman win one for once?"

Percy sighs. "I don't know, Annabeth."

Annabeth stops walking. "This is my place."

Her apartment building is just as you'd expect: reasonable, but slightly crappy. There's nice bushes by the lobby windows, but they haven't been trimmed in a while and someone dropped a Cup of Noodles in them and it was never picked up, a receptionist's desk sits right inside the lobby, ready to point you in the right direction, but she's asleep now and someone put paper clips in her hair.

"Crap," Annabeth whispers halfway through the lobby. "They're doing repairs on the elevators, we have to use the stairs."

Percy pauses, thinking. He looks at Annabeth, then shrugs. "Free cardio."

* * *

Annabeth lives on the eighth floor.

Around the second flight of stairs, she's already sick of it.

The stairwell smells vaguely of cigarettes, like someone smoked in here a very long time ago, and it's so dimly lit, Percy takes out his phone flashlight so he doesn't trip over his own feet and send both him and Annabeth tumbling down. Plus, the chicken nuggets are _so _tempting.

"Tell me some stupid, smart fact to distract me, Annabeth," Percy says, around flight four.

Annabeth thinks. "Butter has seven times the energy of TNT per unit of mass."

"Interesting," Percy says. "What would happen if I wrapped a bomb in butter and set it off?"

"Well. It would be a regular explosion, but butter would probably fly everywhere. In order to abuse the butter energy, you'd have to make the bomb out of butter."

"Absolutely fascinating. I will never need to use that information."

"Science fair?" Annabeth offers.

"You think making a butter bomb for a school science fair is a good idea?" Percy raises an eyebrow.

"I think anything is a good idea right now."

It's the seventh flight where they give up. It's well past five a.m. and Annabeth is either going to black out or sit down on the stairs and fall asleep.

She doesn't fall asleep, but she does sit on the stairs, Percy right next to her. He points to the underside of the staircase above them. "See that?" It's graffiti. Someone wrote 'N+W 5ever'. "Who do you think they are?"

Annabeth purses her lips. "Well, 'N' has to stand for Norman, naturally."

"'W' must be Warthog, then." Percy shuts off his phone flashlight, pockets it, and lays down on the stairs.

Annabeth rests her head on the step. It's undeniably uncomfortable. Like when they shampoo your hair in the hair salon and your neck is aching on the sink. It's awful. She doesn't move though. "Norman and Warthog: poetic, really."

Percy hums. "Norman is a brain surgeon. _For sure_. He mainly works on lizard brains, but on the occasion, he'll give blind monkey's a try."

Annabeth frowns. "Is he blind or are the monkey's blind?"

"Both."

Annabeth nods. "Well, Warthog is an interpretive dancer." Percy laughs. "Plus he does waitressing on the side. He's part time interpretive dance, part time waiting."

"Waiting tables, or…?"

"Nope. Just waiting. Waiting for blind Norman to wander back home somehow."

Percy smiles. "They have a great life."

Annabeth hums. "And they will be together five ever."

"Five ever," Percy agrees.

Annabeth takes out the chicken nuggets. Now is the best time as ever to eat them. She hands one to Percy and takes one for herself. They both take a bite. Annabeth makes eye contact with Percy. "These are so soggy."

He chews. "I'm still gonna eat it."

Annabeth nods, taking another bite. "Yeah, me too."

They lean back again and stare up at the bottom of the staircase above them. Percy says, "What flavor of gum do you think that blue one is?"

Annabeth tilts her head. "Cotton Candy? Maybe it's mint."

"I like cotton candy."

"The pink one is obviously bubble gum."

"Yeah, and the green one is spearmint."

"The yellow one has to be some sort of tropical something."

Percy smiles. "Juicy Fruit?"

She hums. "Sounds reasonable."

There's a bit more silence as they eat the chicken nuggets. Annabeth is so hungry, she doesn't even care that they're kind of soggy from being in the container for so long. She takes a deep breath while she chews. "This is the best meal … I've ever had… in my entire life," she says slowly.

Percy looks at her and nods, taking another from the box resting on her stomach. "I have to agree."

Annabeth swallows her bite. "You know what could be worse than this?"

Percy smiles. "What?"

Annabeth matches his smile. "We could've climbed the fire escape."

"Why on Earth would we do that?"

Annabeth takes another chicken nugget. "Ninety-two percent of the time, I leave my keys on the kitchen counter, but I always have my fire escape window unlocked."

Percy furrows his eyebrows. "You know thats the number one way robbers get into apartment buildings is by going in through the fire escape?"

Annabeth shrugs. "I'm never here anyway. I don't have that much stuff so it wouldn't matter. I mean, if they stole, like, my laptop with all my pictures on it, or my backup SD cards. Then I'd have a problem."

"Is the rest of your stuff at your parents house or something?" Percy asks.

Annabeth sighs. "Well. Fun story. No, it's not. Um, my stuff is nowhere. I mean, I don't have 'stuff', you know?"

"Not really."

"Everything I own is in my apartment, it just doesn't matter to me that much." Annabeth puts her hands behind her head and she stares above her.

"You don't have anything at your parents house then? What do you do when you visit?"

"I don't," Annabeth responds. She's only now noticing how quiet the stairwell is. She can hear her voice echo. "I don't visit them."

"Why not?" Percy asks.

"Well," she starts, wiping the crumbs off her hands, "when I was a kid, I was really smart. I got super good grades and I was top of my class. I was supposed to be valedictorian, but Thalia and I bailed graduation last minute to drive to the lake instead. My parents expected me to be some sort of commercial real estate agent or something superficial like that. They called my photography a hobby." Annabeth scoffs, shaking her head. "I didn't have a problem with them, they were my parents, of course they wanted the best for me. But when I left for New York to do concert photography, they practically disowned me. I went back to visit them two summers ago, but they had moved out of that house without telling me. I have no idea where they are now." She eats another chicken nugget. Talking about her parents always makes her bitter, but she's glad to share this part of her life with someone else.

Percy wipes the crumbs off his hands. He clears his throat. Annabeth can tell he's having a hard time saying what he's about to say. "My dad was a really messed up guy. He was nice, when he wanted to be, and he loved my mom. But he's just- He has a bad … temper. He was, uh, a little- abusive? If you could even call it that? He never hit me, or my mom- but he'd yell. Like, veins popping from his forehead, sore throat in the morning kind of yelling. I always thought he would throw something or hit me, but he never did. Which- I guess that's why my mom is still with him? I don't know. She loves the part of him that apologizes for it in the morning. I don't know how bad it got after I left, but I got out of that country and away from him as soon as I could. I still, you know, talk to my mom a lot, but I haven't heard from my dad since I left."

There's a beat of silence. A weight settles over them like a blanket, the kind of weight that solidifies a friendship. It's a good weight. A now-you-know-my-Tragic-Backstory-so-we'll- be-friends-forever weight.

"Wow," Annabeth says finally, "our parents kind of suck."

"Kind of?" Percy jokes.

There's another beat of silence.

"I bet Norman and Warthog have amazing families."

"Oh, definitely. Norman's parents host Thanksgiving every year."

"Right, and Warthog's sister cooks for Hanukkah- because they're Jewish, if you didn't catch that."

"Oh, no I got it. I'll bet they don't even live in America."

"Italy. Blind brain surgeon Norman takes himself to work in a boat each morning."

"How'd they end up here, then? A, no offense, crappy apartment building in Brooklyn?"

"None taken, this place sucks. And Norman knows a chef who lives on this floor. The best around."

"They cook exotic vegetables."

"Which are really just grilled fruits, but nobody needs to know that."

"I would love to meet Norman and Warthog."

"I would love to _be _either one of them."

"They do live lavishly."

And while Annabeth did say she wants to live like Norman and Warthog, she doesn't really mean it. Those two rascals seem to have everything figured out for themselves, and Annabeth doesn't. But she's really okay with that.

And why be N+W when you can be A+P?

* * *

The next week Annabeth gets invited to a backyard concert by a kid she knew in high school. They just want some cool pictures, plus she's allowed to stay after for the party. And she gets a plus one.

Percy is very excited to go.

The band is called Twilight of the Sun Gods which is a _very _epic name. Certainly better than Whine With Me, but Annabeth can't say anything, she _was _the one who came up with it.

The lead singer is Rachel Dare. The same Rachel from highschool who went through a weird phase where she would read kids' tarot cards at lunch and tell them their future.

One time Annabeth paid Rachel three dollars to read her future. Rachel summed up the cards and told Annabeth that her family would fall apart, but, no worries, she would make new family. Then at some point in her life, she would fall and nearly die? But in the end she would be okay because "your one in particular will pick you up again" which sounded almost like a threat at the time. The last card predicted that Annabeth would apparently destroy her payers and get a long, fulfilled life out of all of that.

Annabeth still isn't sure how she could end up living so greatly if she almost dies from falling somewhere, and even if it was stupid and her reading was from someone who was dared to fit seven crayons up her nose, Annabeth avoids ladders and she stays off of her fire escape as often as she can.

She digresses.

Percy says the band sounds weirdly familiar but he can't put a finger on it. Annabeth tells him that the band is ridiculously unknown so she has no clue where he could've heard it from. Little do they know.

True to her word, Annabeth decides to not drink because she _should _really cut back if she plans on not getting liver cancer before twenty-five, which is one of the few things on her bucket-list. The two of them take Percy's car so Annabeth can label herself the designated driver which means that now she absolutely can't drink.

Percy makes no such promise and gets absolutely wasted.

But first, the actual concert.

When the two arrive, it's already started and Annabeth has to weave her way through the tight, large crowd in order to get her pictures. Beforehand, she had told Percy that he should just enjoy it, but he insisted on following her. He said it was beginning to become one of his favorite parts of concerts.

At one point, when they were super up close, only a few stragglers in front of them, the music blasting through speakers, Annabeth heard Percy say "oh my god" under his breath in a sort of fascinated way, but he didn't say anything else.

During the final song, Annabeth hung back, deciding to get the best concert pictures: the band rocking hard to their last, possibly favorite song, the sweat and energy from previous performances all over the stage, and then there's the audience, drinking in the last song, holding the feeling of the base in their chest and the vibrations rocking their bones until the last chord. It's a sight to see and it's the same but so so different at every concert. Rachel had a wicked guitar solo on the last song too, the audience was screaming and Percy might've yelled "that's my wife!" but who knows. Annabeth was having such a blast, too. She didn't have to take a bajillion pictures of angles of specific things throughout the night, she just enjoyed it and taking pictures is a part of enjoying it.

Another thing she enjoyed was laughing with Percy and playing air guitar and head banging and _that _is beginning to become one of her favorite parts of concerts.

Once the concert is over and the lead singer, someone Annabeth doesn't recognize but has probably fifty pictures of on her camera, leads everyone into the house for drinks, Rachel comes up to Annabeth, except instead of hugging her, Rachel goes straight for Percy and alarms go off in Annabeth's mind. But Percy is smiling and laughing and asking her how she is, and then-

"God, I'm so sorry, Annabeth," Rachel says, out of breath from the set, "Percy is my husband."

Annabeth blinks and smiles. "No- It's fine- You're fine. I, uh, I actually knew that already- Well, I knew that Percy was married, not that you were.. his.. wife."

It's very very very weird saying it out loud.

And Annabeth doesn't know why.

But Percy just smiles. "Jeez, Rachel, how have you been? I haven't seen you since the wedding!"

Rachel laughs loudly and Annabeth can understand when she's a third wheel, so she eventually slyly retreats in the house. It's all she can take not to drink something. She settles for water.

The party is the kind that people have in cliche high school movies. Loud, trashy music, tons of people, scandalous things happening in downstairs bathrooms and upstairs bedrooms, and plenty of alcohol. Except the drinks are bought by the people here, legally, not secretly unlocked from the parents liquor cabinet. Which just means there is so much of it and anyone is willing to go buy more if it runs out. But that's unlikely because there is _so much alcohol._

Annabeth, normally the life of these sort of parties, sits on the washing machine in the laundry room. She's not really sure whose house this is, but the room is quiet enough for her.

Just as written, it's the alcohol that gives her the courage to _be _the life of the parties, or whatever. And now that she doesn't have any, she has a headache and kinda just wants to go home. Maybe she's in a funk. Who knows.

But the pictures look really good. Only a few are really blurry and some just look bad, but the rest are awesome. The sun was setting during the show which means "golden hour" as they would call it and the band is just _glowing_ under the sun rays.

And there's one particular picture that Annabeth can't stop coming back to. She was at the back of the crowd again and the sun was barely peeking above the horizon so there was a blue blanket of light setting over everyone. The band was rocking around in the background and the audience was holding hands up and jumping up and down. But Percy was the only thing in focus. He had turned to her and flashed that lopsided perfect smile of his and she'd pressed the capture button. His eyes were so brilliantly bright, his hair so messy and wavy. The collar of his shirt had ridden down and she could see his collarbone and the chain of the necklace that he never takes off. He was smiling like that at her.

And Annabeth can't stop looking at it.

She isn't really sure where the sudden obsession is coming from, but all she knows is that two months ago, she would've deleted this. It's not really the kind of picture she takes and keeps. (It's more like a 2015 Just Girly Things tumblr post, and take it to heart when it's said that that is not Annabeth). She's a concert photographer. She takes epic pictures of bands and audiences and instruments and venues with sunsets.

Not- her friends.

She doesn't take pictures of her friends.

(So, why is it so hard to delete this one then?)

Well, technically, it is a concert picture. The band is in the background and the audience is thriving but- but the main focus is Percy and goddamnit she's been staring at it for the past two minutes. And she can't really figure out why. It's not that outstanding of a picture. She's taken plenty like this before of specific band members or singers or whoever. It's just Percy.

Two months ago she would've deleted this picture, but now Annabeth just shuts off her camera and hops off the washing machine. Two months ago Annabeth would've deleted this picture because it's just Percy, but now she's keeping it for the same reason.

* * *

Annabeth keeps her promise. She doesn't get drunk, not even a sip of alcohol.

But Percy.

Percy drinks like it's his last night on earth. A voice in Annabeth's head whispers _why _but as she's practically dragging Percy through the living room, she allows herself to ignore it. They both have an arm wrapped around each other's shoulders and Percy isn't putting as much weight on his feet as he should be, plus he keeps mumbling the words to the song thumping over the loudspeakers in every corner of the room. Imagine by Ariana Grande isn't the exact song Annabeth would choose to play at a party like this, but when you're drunk, any song is a dance song.

Three minutes ago, Annabeth and Rachel found Percy half asleep on the couch, people dancing so close to him, their legs kept jamming into his knees, almost falling on top of him. Annabeth offered to take him home, Rachel got a little distracted and was whisked away and now they're here. Annabeth, painfully aware and sober, dragging Percy on his ankles, and Percy who's playing with Annabeth's camera bag strap and who can barely stay upright.

A few number of people stop them to say _hi_ or _where you going? _and Annabeth lets Percy struggle to answer because she's having a slightly difficult time with the air being so hot and Percy being so heavy and there's sweat on her forehead, why do the people in movies make this look so easy?

She considers taking a shot of something to make it easier, but she can see the front door from here and she'll be damned if she can't make five steps without needing any liquid courage.

And _of course!_ there are stairs. It's that awkward two steps from the living room to the front entrance deal and Annabeth almost wants to cry when she sees them. Especially because there's about fifty empty cans of beer and a sleeping teenager and Percy might be asleep on her shoulder.

She jostles him a little and he jerks up, blinking like a newborn. "Can we leave?" he asks.

Annabeth considers biting a chunk out of his shoulder, but they're in public and she can just do it later. "Can you walk up these stairs?"

Percy makes a face like he took a big bite from a lemon. "Easy peasy," he says, but doesn't make any move to do so.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and bites her tongue. Guess she'll just have to drag him up these architectural monsters. (What's even the purpose of having two stairs right here because Annabeth can't seem to find one.)

It's actually not that bad.

When Annabeth was in highschool, Thalia went through a party phase. She can't even count how many times she went to find Thalia at a rager, or whatever. There's definitely a permanent lipstick stain on the roof of Annabeth's car from when Thalia thought Annabeth had a moonroof.

So Annabeth kind of knows how to deal with drunks.

But this is Percy, and not Thalia and- and Annabeth doesn't see a difference so she grabs his wrists and yanks him up the stairs. He barely trips over a beer can, but stays steady. He puts his arm around Annabeth's shoulder once they're both up the stairs and she does the same. She takes a stabilizing breath and opens the front door.

Annabeth breathes in the cool night summer air as the door shuts behind them. There's a scream and a crash and Annabeth doesn't know what song is playing but she can hear the bass thumping in the foundations of the house. She takes another deep breath as Percy slips out from under her arm.

He looks at her with glassy eyes. "Let's dance."

Annabeth looks at him with a raised eyebrow and sloppily ties her hair up. "Dance?"

"Yeah, come on," he just smiles and grabs her hands moving them back and forth and bouncing a little on his toes.

Despite herself, Annabeth laughs a little. "Percy, you're super drunk. You need water- and sleep."

Percy stops moving and becomes very series for a moment. Annabeth swallows. He says, "Just one dance and then you can make me better."

It is probably the weirdest way he could've worded it and all Annabeth can do is nod and say, "One dance."

Percy mirrors her nod. "One dance." He holds Annabeth's hands and intertwines their fingers. "I'll be the music, okay?"

"Okay."

And then he gets close to her. Very close. Like high-school-prom-slow-dance close. And they just sway. On the steps of whoevers house this is, five steps from the door, bass thumping behind them. Annabeth can hear Percy's heartbeat through his t-shirt. She questions why she said yes in the first place. Alcohol poisoning is a very serious matter, but a voice yells "you know he only drank wine coolers!" and while she can't even comprehend how many he had to get him this wasted, she just keeps swaying and tells herself that it's fine.

They just rock for a few seconds before Percy starts mumbling the lyrics to a song Annabeth might've heard on the radio once before.

"_Thats why we're here. We're at the common again. Pouring my heart out towards your optimistic grin."_

He's not singing, necessarily, just mumbling the words sloppily. And they sway. Back and forth and again and again. The moment is so intimate and Annabeth's heart races. She thinks about the picture of him on her camera, how he's smiling at her.

She leans her head down and stares at their feet. Percy's shoes are untied and he's wearing the same Christmas socks he wore when they were outside the cafe at two a.m.

"_Well I- like the cut of your jib_. _I like the way that your face looks when your yapping on about him."_

There's a part of her that understands it all now. A part of her that knows that in the morning, he might not remember this, but she will and she won't be able to forget it.

Annabeth feels it before she realizes or understands it. Her heart picks up faster than before and her whole face and neck heats up. She can't even feel her legs anymore but Percy's hands are so warm on her waist.

"_I called you up at a hundred n' two and I see your pyjamas. I can't stop smiling at you._"

He stops singing, whether that's the end of the song or he forgot the rest of the lyrics, Annabeth doesn't know. They just keep swaying and swaying. And her understanding folds over her like the soft crash of a wave or the unfolding of a blanket.

She'll probably never delete that picture.

* * *

"Let me just get this straight," Thalia says, and dunks her donut in her to-go coffee cup, "you love him, but he's in love with someone else."

Annabeth nods. "Yes."

"And you danced with him? All close n' stuff and he sang?"

"He was drunk."

"Were you?"

"No, but-"

"Were you with him the whole night?"

Annabeth blinks. "Uh, no-"

"Did you see him drink?"

"Not really-"

"So how do you know he was really drunk?" Thalia takes a bite from her donut.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "He could barely make it up two stairs, besides, Sober Percy would never do that kinda thing."

"Ahh," Thalia smirks. "Drunk Percy is Brave Percy."

Annabeth kicks her ankle under the table. "Shut up. He was not pretending to be drunk or anything like that."

"Why wouldn't he?" Thalia asks, taking a sip of coffee. "When we were teenagers, I used to pretend to be wasted all the time."

Annabeth frowns and says, "Why would you do that?"

"You would give me apple juice and take me to get ice cream, sue me for wanting to get some of that sober."

"You're so annoying."

Thalia just smirks. "I just wanted to be treated."

Annabeth called Thalia for their weekly coffee date for _advice_. Not whatever this is.

Thalia is normally a Pandora's box of advice. You ask for a bite and she gives you the whole banana. Somehow, though, she always knows the perfect thing to say, but so far, Annabeth just feels used and very betrayed because she can't even begin to explain how much hard-earned money (from working drive-thru) she spent on buying supposedly Drunk Thalia ice cream and apple juice. It's too early for this.

It's six a.m. and Thalia's little corner cafe just opened, the front glass doors propped open wide, allowing warm July air and morning sunshine in the small shop. Every few seconds, the sound of the espresso machine working itself would add to the quiet white noise of early chatter, covering the conversation Annabeth drags herself through. She crosses her legs over the other and folds her arms on the table, the steam from her coffee floating to her face. Annabeth hears someone shuffle in and she glances over, looking past the entering customer to the front of the cafe. A bench bakes in the sunlight and a smile crawls to Annabeth's face; only a few weeks ago, she and Percy sat there at three in the morning, hoping Thalia would pop up and let them in at some point, but obviously that never happened.

When Annabeth moved to Brooklyn after high school, she dragged her best friend with her, obviously. Super long story short, Thalia took over one of her dad's coffee places, which is normally open twenty-four seven, but that's none of Annabeth's concern.

Annabeth huffs out a long breath and puts her head in her hands. "Thalia, please. Help me."

Thalia wipes the crumbs off her hands and rests them on her knees. A smile plays on her lips and her eyebrow stays raised amusedly. "I don't really see the problem here."

Annabeth smiles slightly and slumps in her seat. Her best friend may be frustrating, but she loves her anyway. "Come on! You're always the best for advice since you've done practically everything under the sun." She kicks Thalia's ankle under the table lightly. "Tell me some weird, insignificant story from your childhood that makes no sense but helps me make a big decision later on."

Thalia sits up and laughs. "I don't have one _single _story that you don't already know. Not from my childhood at least."

Annabeth cocks her head to the side and smiles. "There was that grey area before we met."

"When I was four?" Thalia smiles and leans back in her chair. "Annabeth, I don't even remember the shoes I'm wearing right now, let alone something that happened when I was four that could somehow be any kind of meaningful to your journey with Mr. Amazing Eyebrows. Who I don't even know, by the way. As the best friend, I deserve to meet him at some point." Thalia leans up again and starts picking at her donut.

Annabeth ignores the eyebrow comment, knowing Piper somehow already told Thalia everything. She crosses her arms and lifts one shoulder. "I tried to take him down here, but you were closed."

"Really?" Thalia raises her eyebrows. She takes the last bite of her donut and wipes the crumbs from her hands. "That's weird, we're always open. When did you come?"

Annabeth uncrosses her arms and picks the probably-two-month-old-chipping-nail-polish off her fingers. "Three in the morning."

Thalia smiles. "Well that explains it."

"Thalia, I've come here at three am before and you're always open."

"Yeah, well, I sleep a lot more now. It's my new philosophy," Thalia says. A man walks by their table and jams into Thalia's chair, jerking her into the table. She glares at him flips him off under the table.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "That's unfair because I never sleep."

Thalia eyes the man as he walks to the counter. "What does my sleep schedule have to do with yours?"

"We do everything together."

Thalia looks back to Annabeth and laughs haughtily. "Not so much anymore, Miss Sorry I Can't Hang Out, I'm In Alaska For Some Reason."

Annabeth throws her hands up. "That was one time, and I told you beforehand- Thalia, I invited you to come!"

"I have this place to run, girlie." Thalia gestures around her and shrugs. "I can't go to Alaska, not like you can."

"Okay, okay," Annabeth says smiling. "We do need to spend more time together, I agree."

Thalia tilts her head and smiles. "Thank you."

Annabeth holds her coffee to her lips before hastily putting it back down after remembering her reason for calling Thalia in the first place. "Can we please talk about Percy now, because if we don't I might start thinking about it and cry."

Thalia laughs and scrunches her nose. "Well- What is he like?"

Annabeth smiles and remembers the picture on her camera, his bright eyes and big smile, the blue sunlight highlighting his hair blue and silver. She remembers dancing with him and taking him home. She remembers leaving his car at his apartment and taking an Uber back to her place, the whole time she just sat in the back seat. She had heavy, glassy eyes and slumped shoulders, her body as tired as her mind, but she stayed hunched over her camera, looking for him in every picture she took, somehow she spotted him right away; he was in almost every one. Even if it was just the corner of his head or his arm, he was there. And in all this remembering, Annabeth just says, "He's like me, but Canadian and a little stupid."

Thalia asks, "Why would you want someone overly nice and dumb; that doesn't sound like the total package." She pulls a chair from the table adjacent to her and puts her feet on it. Annabeth sees a bright green piece of gum on the bottom of her big boots and remembers that weird drunk night under the stairs.

Annabeth smiles and fiddles with her nails again under the table, her eyes staring off into space. "No, Thalia, his niceness is sweet, actually. He's just really polite and he doesn't know New York very well. And- okay, I worded that wrong. He's not a little stupid, he's just-" she sighs "-he goes to concerts and he's in New York because a while ago he saw a concert and met this girl there and he thinks she's his soulmate."

Thalia scoffs a laugh. "That's some romance novel bullshit right there. But good for you, I guess."

"Good for me?"

Thalia looks at her incredulously. "Annabeth, is your blonde hair clogging your ears?" Annabeth's expression doesn't change so Thalia sits up again. "He went to a concert and met a girl and he's trying to find her, I gather?"

"Yes…?" Annabeth nods slowly.

Thalia says, "And you met him at a concert."

Annabeth nods again, furrowing her eyebrows. "Yeah, Coldplay in LA."

Thalia just raises her eyebrows and nods. She takes another drink from her coffee.

"What is it?" Annabeth asks. Thalia takes another gulp from her coffee. "What, Thalia, tell me."

Thalia puts her cup down and rolls her eyes, kicking Annabeth under the table. "You dip, _you're _the girl from the concert," she says. "You're the one he's chasing around to find. That's you, Bethy."

Annabeth backpedals. _That's you, Bethy._ Is it? Has Percy really been pining after Annabeth this whole time and she's just been too dense to notice? Annabeth breathes out, eyes tracing the blue tile linings on the floor.

It couldn't be true, though. It just can't. There are plenty of things that don't add up. If this was true, why hasn't he said anything yet? Why does he still joke about it and tell Annabeth that he's still looking for this girl? Why does he keep his head up during their concerts, constantly on the lookout for this potential new wife?

It can't be a huge metaphor. Percy's not deep like that, he can't be. But then again, does Annabeth even know him that well? Who knows, maybe she'll confront him about it and he'll break into song and choreographed dance (that includes an interpretive tap dance break) where he concludes his feelings are icicles, slowly dripping water down on the frozen lake of life, each time trying to break away to Annabeth below, but the temperature lowers again, and he's solid.

Metaphors don't ever make much sense, especially that one, but neither does Percy.

As much as the things Thalia is saying are wrong, they sound so right coming out of her mouth.

"You've just gotta keep your head up, Anna. It's 2019, you don't have to wait for him to make the first move. Besides, after all this fighting for you, he's not going to say no," Thalia says with confidence.

She hasn't been waiting, though. Annabeth knows he doesn't like her back. If he had a picture of her he didn't need, he'd delete it, like any sensible person would do. But Annabeth is far from sensible and the picture sits in it's own file on her computer. Two nights ago, she considered deleting it, but once Percy facetimed her with the news that he couldn't find any spoons and decided to eat his cereal with a straw, she got a little distracted. She didn't edit it either. A part of her wanted to, but a bigger part just knew that there's nothing to fix. The picture is perfect and it has its _own file on her computer_. Lord knows what she'd do if anyone found it.

She'd probably say that it's her brother that she doesn't see very often and then every time she'd see Percy, she'd think about how she called him her brother and everything would be just an uncomfortable amount of weird.

Even if she somehow grew confident and made the first move anyway, how in the world would she function if he rejected her? It's too early in her feelings for it to be Week Long Sob Fest featuring Tubs and Tubs of Ice Cream, but it's late enough for the entire relationship to cease to exist at that point.

How about this: have you ever let your room get really, really dirty? Like throw clothes on the floor, I'll Pick It Up Later Maybe (and then never do), dirty? And you let it stay that way for a while? And finally spring rolls around and you figure, why not, right? So you clean your room and when you're finally finished, you sit back and think, holy crap, my room was really dirty.

You didn't know how bad it was until it was over.

That's what it's like for Annabeth. Beforehand, she never really had many friends. Not ones that could run around to concerts or hold her bag or stay up too late or share her weird habits with. Not those kinds of friends. Sure, she had Thalia, and always will, but Thalia is more like a sister that she meets up with for coffee every so often, there's no fluctuations there.

But Percy. Percy stuck his nose into Annabeth's life and if she ruins everything with her feelings, it'll be like having a dirty room again. It's normal, and you know you can manage, but you'd rather have a clean room. Annabeth fears that if she lets herself get in too deep it might be like not having a room at all.  
Which doesn't make much sense, but metaphors, right?

But the big problem is, she really, really likes Percy. She likes the way he smiles at her when she makes a stupid joke. She likes how when she's with him, things _could be so much worse_. She likes how he crinkles his nose when he disagrees. How he doesn't even offer to carry her bag, he'll just take it off her shoulder and throw it over his, not complaining once. How he mindlessly follows her during crowded, stuffy concerts that would be much better enjoyed from one location. She likes how the gears in his mind turn at the same speed hers do. How he doesn't really have much of a plan for what he's doing or where he's going, but for right now, he's Annabeth's best friend and that's almost all that matters.

Annabeth groans and holds her head in her hands, threading her fingers through her hair and tugging hard. "I can't just tell him I'm in love with him, Thalia."

Annabeth hears Thalia say, "Sure you can. Just go up to him and say, 'I'm in love with you'. Easy as that."

Annabeth lifts her head and sees Thalia nonchalantly sipping her coffee. "Have you ever told anyone you're in love with them? Because it's really not that easy."

Thalia winks. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

Annabeth chuckles dryly. "Can I get a time frame? 'Cause boss says I'm outta town in two weeks."

Thalia groans. "Seriously?" she says. "What this time? I thought you said the dude murdered someone."

Annabeth folds her napkin absentmindedly. "No, he's serving in jury for a murder trial, but he still leaves me ominous text messages." She pulls out her phone and searches for the conversation. "Here, read for yourself this masterpiece I recieved at four in the morning yesterday."

Thalia skeptically takes the phone and reads the message:

_Hi annabeth its me youre boss _

_So im still in court for the murder trial but the case will be done soon so you need to get prepared cuz i have a project coming up 4 u _

_They'res a band in finland and they only do covers of Queen songs and their going on a euro[pean tour and ur going 2 follow them a round the country. I think it ends in wales or somthn but ur gonna b they're 4 3 montsh so just b read y 4 that. _

_Sinsierely youre boss ,, mR., _

"Does he type with his toes?" Thalia hands Annabeth the phone back.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "If he did, I would not be surprised. He is a man of many talents. Like managing to spell his own one letter name wrong." She raises an eyebrow, reading the message herself again.

Thalia leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. "So you've gotta three month journey ahead of you."

"Yep." Annabeth sighs and puts her phone away. She can't look at it anymore.

"You know he's not going to follow you there, right?" Thalia asks softly.

Annabeth sighs. Obviously, she knows that. Percy couldn't possibly afford that, and she wouldn't expect him to do it anyway. He's got other things and other people to worry about. It's insane to believe he would follow her across Europe for some lame band.

But a big part of her will miss him.

A very big part. Like a Percy-sized hole in her heart.

"You're gonna have to tell him before you leave, you know that, right?" Thalia says.

Annabeth frowns. She does. Oh boy, does she. There's no way she could stumble off to Wales or wherever, leaving Percy here, possibly to return three months later with a heavier heart, flash drive full of pictures, just to find that Percy found the real damsel he was looking for.

Really, it's now or never.

A part of her wants to say never.

"You're the coolest person I've ever met, Annabeth," Thalia says seriously. "Percy'd be a fool not to be hopelessly in love with you."

Percy's a pretty giant fool then, Annabeth thinks. "Yeah, hopelessly," she repeats. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless.

Now all she's got is this messy room and a heavy heart.

* * *

Annabeth sits on her feelings for a while.

She lives life normally. Well. As normal as an on-call concert photographer can. Annabeth went to a small park concert that turned out to be a private event for a wedding, and her and Percy were kicked out immediately. (It's not their fault they weren't dressed appropriately; Annabeth only owns one pair of shoes and Percy probably doesn't even have a comb.)

She knows that her view has changed and every time she sees Percy her heart picks up a few paces. She knows that. But she doesn't even consider telling him.

So. She sits on her feelings for a while.

Of course, though. It's Tuesday, which is Mandatory Hang Out Day. Every Tuesday since a long amount of Tuesday's ago, Annabeth and Percy ask trusty Siri to tell them what to do in New York that night.

Most of the time it's normal: bowling, movies, night clubs (which they never once had gone to), cafes, whatnot. Sometimes Siri shakes it up and hits them with: sobbing alone to a romantic movie (which they did), solve complex math equations for hours (Annabeth was all for it, Percy shut her down quickly), get a job (they already have those), and Annabeth's personal favorite: go see a concert.

Of course tonight, Siri says, "Why not try the Open Mic Night?" She gives them the address in her odd, robot voice.

Percy looks at Annabeth. They're sitting in his car, everywhere else is dark beside the bright street lights and overhead clickers. "Oh, we're so going." He grins and starts the car. "I hope you know we're going to do an awful duet and you're going to hate it."

Annabeth laughs. "We'll see about that."

They don't, actually, do a duet. In fact, not many people sing at all. An old man who Annabeth and Percy decide is a math teacher with eight kids probably, recites a lovely, slightly cryptic poem about leopards that might relate to pollution if you squint hard enough. A teenage girl with a Drama Club t-shirt and round red glasses reads an excerpt from a book. Annabeth double dog dares Percy to sing Piano Man by Billy Joel (she even throws in a drink on her). He boldly takes the dare and saunters on stage. A couple girls in the back whistle for him and the math teacher chuckles a little bit. Annabeth sees the teenage girl talking with the barista.

(It's another one of those weird places where Annabeth can't tell if it's a bar or a cafe, but there's also a stage? If she was into architecture, she'd make it much more clear when planning out the building.)

Percy's voice is scratchy and he's obviously not a singer, but by god, he owns the stage like he built it by hand. He's the first person of the night to take the mic off of its stand. He's also the first person to walk through the tables and sing into people's faces. And of course, he dramatically drapes himself on Annabeth's table. She stuffs a five in the collar of his shirt and he winks. The song is long which means his act goes on for a while, but by the end he has everyone singing with him and Annabeth even finds herself singing and swaying. It reminds her of her favorite part of concerts, when the audience joins in and there's a connection with the performer and the crowd that's so sweet and intimate, normally it can force her to tears.

Of course, Percy yells, "Thank you!" just as another chorus of the song plays and everyone laughs at him. He cuts the tape himself and the occupants cheer for him. He bows twice and finally joins Annabeth at the table.

She eyes him and sips her lemonade. "That was quite the spectacle."

Percy raises an eyebrow and takes her lemonade from her hands. "I'd like to see you try to perform an eight minute song _without _having a blast." He gulps her drink.

"Should we get out of here?" Annabeth blurts out.

Percy puts her drink down. "Why? Are you embarrassed of my amazing performance?"

Annabeth smiles and shakes her head. "No, trust me. I'm definitely going to talk to the owner later about getting the security footage- I need that forever."

"Oh, god," Percy laughs. "I'm never going to live that down."

Annabeth watches him laugh. Bright eyes, careless. How did they get this close so quickly? She'll never know but forever be grateful.

"Lets go to the beach."

And Percy says yes, because Annabeth doesn't know how devoted to her he really is- which is a lot, actually. And he'd do anything she'd ask. Hands down.

Of course, Annabeth doesn't know that yet.

;)

* * *

Later on in our story, when Annabeth thinks of Percy, she remembers this day. This drive to the beach.

She thinks of driving down endless roads with the shining ocean at the end, windows rolled down, their favorite songs blasting so loud through the speakers, she doesn't realize how loud they really are unless she thinks about it. She thinks of the sun setting, painting beautiful golden colors across the mass of sky, so far she aches her neck to see it all. She thinks of finally making it to the beach, laying on the hood of his car feeling the music vibrate through the radio, sand caked on her feet, neck aching, and skin burning.

She thinks of the sun setting and seeing stars twinkle, and pointing to the sky, counting the biggest ones, making up their own constellations. She thinks of the starts glittering like fairies in his dark eyes, seeing the crinkles on his cheeks as he laughs at something she said.

She remembers laying under her apartment buildings stairs, guessing which flavor of gum is stuck above them and what strangers graffiti stands for.

She remembers screaming along to the words of a song at a concert until her voice breaks and cracks and her feet ache and the thump of the bass echos in her chest. But she can't stop smiling at him as he smiles at her.

She thinks of her heart picking up when he texts her or when he wraps his arm around her shoulders at the end of a concert, during that one song they sway to, singing the lyrics along with the entire stadium, but feeling like its just her and him there.

She thinks of loving him, wholly and absolutely, understanding she may not have him as more, but knowing she won't be able to breathe having him as less.

She thinks of her feet on his dashboard while they drive home that night. The sky stained blue with twinkling start, a spaced out song vibrating through the speakers and the wind flowing through the car. She thinks of nearly falling asleep but looking over to see him. Seeing the face she's laughed with and lived with for so long. The person she's become completely accustomed and attached to over the course of the summer.

She thinks of looking at him and wanting nothing more than to hold his hand. Just to intertwine their fingers.

But he stops singing softly along to the lyrics and looks at her from the corner of his eye. "Whatcha staring for?" he teases.

She leans her head back again and looks through the window at the stars. "Just thinking."

"About anything in particular?"

"Not necessarily." And she knows she has to tell him.

Her heart pounds for his and her lungs breathe with his. She's taken and in love, but he keeps his head up for another girl. A mystery girl. A very lucky lady, she is.

Annabeth hums to the song, shutting her eyes and thinking of a simpler night, one where they danced outside a party to his own music, and she breathes out.

His hand reaches from the steering wheel and takes hers in it. He slowly intertwines their fingers and Annabeth finally falls asleep.

* * *

This time, Percy gets the tickets. It's a fancy shmancy music festival that lasts a few days. Of course, being almost broke, they both only had the money for the last night.

Annabeth is excited, obviously. It's how she gets before any concert, let alone a whole festival, but of course, that's not the entire reason.

She's decided to do it. To open her heart to Percy, god, _finally_, and admit to him her feelings. She spent hours talking to Thalia over facetime the other day (that bled into the night, but details, details) and Thalia finally convinced her to just go for it.

Next week she leaves for Wales, of all places, to follow some band around for three months. It's now or never.

Don't even mention the fact that Annabeth hasn't told Percy about the Wales thing either. Its -It's beside the point.

The festival was- well how all music festivals go.

People wearing so much mesh. Girls in sparkles with sunglasses on their head they don't actually plan on wearing. Everyone's kinda drunk, everyone's kinda high. For some reason most people have fanny packs? There's too many high schoolers to be legal. There has not been one visible security guard so far (neither has there been any visible bathrooms). Everyone that has stopped to say hello to Annabeth and Percy end up offering to sell them something (a few more scandalous than others).

It's safe to say they're having a great time.

It's probably mid-afternoon, who knows. The bands haven't come out yet, and Percy and Annabeth came a little earlier to get good spots. Not for photographs, but just to enjoy it.

Once the two of them are giggling over ice cream does Annabeth even consider this to be the best time to, you know, _tell him_. She takes a deep breath and eats another spoon full of her vanilla ice cream. (Sue her, it's the best flavor).

"Do you think one of the guys from Queer Eye is gonna be here?"

Annabeth laughs, almost spitting her ice cream everywhere. "What?"

Percy laughs and licks his ice cream. (Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles, if you were wondering). "Well, I mean, why wouldn't they be, you know?"

Annabeth makes a face. "Well…"

"No, listen," Percy smiles, "I mean, they're always somewhere, right? Plus since I've met you, I've met more celebrities than I've met before in my whole life. Maybe I'll get lucky."

Annabeth smiles. "I've only introduced you to three class celebrities. That's a lot for you?"

He shrugs. "Yes?" He stops. "How many famous people have you met?"

"Twenty-five."

His face changes."Oh my god."

"I mean, you have to know that I'd meet some celebrities after photographing so many concerts-"

Percy puts down his ice cream and grabs Annabeth's shoulders. "No, Annabeth that's not what I'm talking about." He seems panicked but excited. Alarms go off in Annabeth's mind.

_Please don't let this be happening._

Now or never, she thinks.

"Wait, Percy." Annabeth grabs his arms. "There's something I need to tell you-"

"No, Annabeth," he grins, like a child on Christmas morning. Annabeth's heart breaks a little.

"Percy, I'm, um, I-" and the words can't seem to find their place on her lips.

She can't say it.

But, god, she wants to.

He grabs her shoulders again and turns her around. He points to a group of girls. So much mesh, so much glitter, so many unworn sunglasses. "There she is! Annabeth, look! It's her!"

He shakes her a little in excitement. Then this magical mystery girl catches Percy's eye. The girl's face seems to go through the five stages of grief before she smiles as bright as the sun and runs from her group of friends towards Annabeth and Percy.

Percy lets go of Annabeth to reunite himself with the magical mystery girl.

They seem happy. Annabeth goes home early that night.

Her name is Calypso and she's so sweet. She's so beautiful. Annabeth agrees with Percy- she really was worth waiting for.

And, you know, for a moment, Thalia really had Annabeth believing _she _was the mystery concert girl, but Annabeth's life isn't like a romance movie. Percy didn't kiss her when they first met and now Annabeth can't kiss him now.

He found his love, his lobster. And Annabeth goes to Wales in, like, five days. It's surreal. But it's life.

And it sucks.

* * *

**oh my god leigh that cliffhanger i h8 you**

**yes i know, i also know that ending was a little rushed, but ugh. whatever. i think it's cute**

**now for the mushy gooshy stuff**

**Orange Pens and Messy Hands, you glorious fiend, you. it is your birthday! today is going to be amazing, i am absolutely sure of it, because you are amazing and awesome and hands down the best. i could go on and i will. **

**i know you said i shouldn't feel pressured to write you a story even though you wrote me one for my birthday (which i adore more than anything), but im such a rule breaker and i make absolutely no promises. plus ive had this story in the works for a while, and the opportuntiy arose. i was waiting for my muse and i guess its you and you're wonderfully timed birthday. **

**sorry for leaving this on a sort of negative cliffhanger there, but i'll have the ending out soon enough. school is um kind of hard. im sure you know. **

**i apologize for the stupid world and the stupid earth's rotation that's making your day be on a monday. but i hope all goes well and your professors just cancel class or something. wouldn't that be great!?**

**also ive kinda been MIA, but for good reason: this?! also life is hard, but you know that. i wanted to spend a majority of my time writing this inbetween all my other nonsense. i hope this made up for it. **

**and yes, as you said to me, i say it to you. this story is yours. save it, hold it. cherish it, or you know, throw it out. use it as a napkin. though i don't know how you would do that, its a virtual story, but if you were too dedicated you could print it. idk. take this thang out for a date, or don't. that'd be weird. um bring it with you to uni so you have something to distract you from the big hulk man. **

**in all sincerity, i would not have finished or even published this if not for you. so thank you thank you thank you. ive been stuck for a while with writing, and i suppose all i needed was a little nudge. **

**and here comes the SUPER SOAKER. did i just reference nerf? i guess so. **

**um i super duper appreciate you and just the fact that even though i literally take weeks to respond to you sometimes which is super crappy of me, you still want to be my friend and listen to my rants and vents about theater even though im a huge nerd. its fabulous to know that even if stuff in my real life is a little icky, i have you to talk to and to listen to. you've been such a wonderful friend and you deserve the biggest bestest birthday. so i gift you this gigantic 20k word story. sUppRisE!**

**and for everyone who has no idea about anything. i hope you enjoyed the story. please say something nice, it'd make my day. **

**thank you all for everything and have a great day. drink water. get a full nights sleep. **

**anyway**

**;) leigh **


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